


A Liar in Babel

by surveycorpsjean



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, CEO Kakashi, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Explicit Consent, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fashion & Couture, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Sugar Baby Iruka, With A Twist, iruka is not weak, kakashi softens up like fkin butter, lol just trust me, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surveycorpsjean/pseuds/surveycorpsjean
Summary: Iruka narrows his eyes and crosses his arms.“Tell me why I’m here.”“You need the money,” Kakashi says, brunt and cruel. “And I need a sugar baby.”
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 247
Kudos: 2174
Collections: you have the potential to bloom into something even more beautiful than the cosmos





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe i have to say this in the year of our lord 2020 but if u dont like it please dont read it haha 
> 
> nothing like this would ever happen in real life, so thats why i wrote it lolllll. this fic is complete, im just editing the rest of the chapters

It’s not like Iruka doesn’t know what disappointment tastes like.

In fact, the feeling is so frustratingly familiar, it helps Iruka to professionally keep face and smile.

“Congratulations, Mizuki,” Iruka says. “You’ve worked hard.”

Mizuki offers a pressed smile and a clap on the shoulder.

“So have you. I’m sorry, Iruka.”

The classroom smells like Clorox wipes and apple fruit snacks. There are more adults in his room than he’d like right now, and that’s becoming less of a rarity these days. 

“Don’t apologize!” Iruka fakes a laugh. “I’ll be on the next seat.”

Yeah, in ten years when someone _dies._ Or uh, retires, but these old bats won’t lose their tenure without a fight.

Mizuki laughs, and when he turns to their coworker, Iruka crushes the rejection notice and tosses it in his garbage can.

Damn. He was really banking on that promotion to pay off some bills.

It’s not that Iruka necessarily _wanted_ to move to administration, but with Naruto’s first year in college, unexpected medical bills and budget cuts for the school… Iruka is two months late on rent, and his landlord is losing patience.

Is it asking too much for the school to buy them some damn pencils?

A student peeks in from the schoolyard window. Iruka fights a smile, and waves her off towards the playground, and she giggles as she slips below the windowsill.

He doesn’t regret buying her those new sneakers, especially when her old ones were so ratty and chewed up, more holes than sole and turned black with mud. His _wallet_ regrets it, but Iruka does not.

Administration would’ve been too boring, he tells himself.

Whatever. He’s pulled himself up by his bootstraps before, damn straight he’ll do it again.

~

“Look,” Iruka pinches the bridge of his nose. “I – _okay,_ I know it’s late – no no no, you’re not – ma’am, you’re not listening to me.”

Iruka switches the phone to his other ear and fights to keep his voice down in the checkout aisle. He knows his face is red, and he tries to duck into his jacket to avoid the judgmental stare of the grocery clerk.

“Ma’am, I just need you to unfreeze my account for one day. I’ll make the payment by this weekend and – _argh,_ ” Iruka bites off into a hiss as the lady starts repeating her spiel. “I _know!_ I know about the – oh my god,” Iruka jolts as he sees a man standing patiently behind him in line. His purchase is a redbull, sunchips and a pack of gum, probably no more expensive than Iruka’s groceries. Iruka lowers his phone and steps out of line. “I am so sorry, you can go ahead – _no_ ma’am, I don’t – please stop speaking over me!” 

The man regards him with a level stare; the lower half of his face hidden behind a black fabric mask , and Iruka really doesn’t need the judgement right now, so he turns away to cup his hand over his mouth and hiss-yell into the phone with the most _I know you are just following policy but I really am losing my patience with you_ voice.

From the sounds of it, his account isn’t going to be unfrozen anytime soon. Iruka squeezes his eyes shut and ignores the pulsing headache at his temple.

“Sir?”

Iruka turns back around and sighs, letting the lady on the phone ramble against his shoulder.

“Look, I’m so sorry, I still want my purchase, please just give me a minute to –“

“It’s already paid for,” the kid says, snapping his gum.

Iruka freezes. He can still hear muffled talking from the phone.

“Wait, what?”

“The guy behind you covered it,” the kid nods towards the door, shoving the bag into Iruka’s open hand a little forcefully. His tone is completely deadpan; “Thank you for shopping at Freshies, have a nice day.”

The relief would be enough to make him cry, if Iruka were anyone else. He hangs up on the woman mid rant, and fumbles to take the bag.

“Err – thank you!”

Iruka dips the hell out of there, ready to go home and die of mortification, but he scans the parking lot first.

The man is easy to spot; he’s tall, dressed semi-formally as if returned from a business meeting, and the stark silver of his hair stands out like a beacon.

He’s walking towards a black SUV. There is another man in a suit waiting impatiently against the hatch.

“Really boss? Could you have taken any longer?”

“Maa, it wasn’t my –“

“Wait!” Iruka calls, jogging across the crosswalk and waving an apology to the car that has to slam on their brakes. “Wait, please!”

Both men stop to look at him. The silver-haired one is tall and broad, and he grows a few inches as he straightens out of his slouch.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Iruka bows as he approaches. “Thank you for that. Seriously, so much, I really – I can pay you back?”

The man in the mask raises an eyebrow, and his voice is chilly.

“Can you really?”

Iruka bristles immediately.

“Look, I just wanted to say thank you. No need to rub it in my face.”

“Boss?”

“Give me a minute, Tenzo,” he says. The shorter gentleman nods curtly and steps into the driver’s seat. The bake-lights turn on with the engine. The man in the mask peers down at him, face unreadable, “The bank giving you trouble?”

Iruka frowns.

“That’s none of your business. I just – look, would you like me to pay you back or not? My check comes this week and frankly, I’d rather not owe money to someone like you.”

Black suit, stiff entourage, expensive car; god knows what mob could come knocking on his door come Monday. Iruka does _not_ need that right now.

“Hm,” the man blinks, unphased. “Would you like a job?”

That is definitely not what Iruka was expecting to hear.

He flounders a little, and clutches his paper bag to his chest as he barks, “That’s— that’s so rude! I have a job and I love it! I don’t need your pity, sir.”

“Ah. So you’re the type that likes teaching brats.”

Iruka’s eyes go wide. “How did you –“

“Badge,” the man points. Iruka looks down at the faculty badge clipped to his coat, and when he looks back up again, there’s a business card in his face. Iruka blinks.

“Uh, what is this?”

His eyes are cold and grey, and Iruka feels exposed as they dip down and up in a bored flicker and – _did he just check me out?_

“Hatake Kakashi. Keep your day job if you want. Come work nights for me, and you’ll never pay bills again.”

Okay, _what?_ Iruka squints, snatching the business card before _Kakashi_ shoves it up his nose.

“Excuse me? Are you –“

“I’ll pay your rent,” Hatake says, stepping closer, and Iruka’s back hits the window of his SUV. “I’ll get you drugs, clothes, cars, whatever you want. Four to five days a week, hours vary, sleeping arrangements will be made on a case by case basis.”

It’s too much information at once. Of everything Iruka wants to say, what comes out is –

“Are you in the mafia?” 

Everything freezes for one odd moment. Kakashi actually laughs; Iruka can’t see his mouth, but his eyes squint a little in amusement.

“No. I need a sugar baby.”

Iruka is mortified, and also astral projecting at the same time. For a moment he forgets he’s still standing in a grocery store parking lot. All manners gone, Iruka’s response is instinctual.

“Fuck you. Despite what you might think, I don’t need a handout.”

Kakashi squints, and the sharp, chilly look is back in his eyes. As someone propositioning Iruka for sex, he appears completely disinterested.

“It’s not a handout, it’s a job.” Kakashi pops open the back passenger door. “Look, I’ve got to go. Call me by Monday if you’re interested, if not I’ll hire someone else.”

“Here, I’ll save you some time. _Hell no!_ ” Iruka spits. He steps out of the way as the engine revs, and Kakashi tips his head in an amused sort of way.

“Don’t take it personal, Iruka-sensei. We’ll cover details when you call.”

_When._

Iruka covers the name on his teacher’s badge with a huff. The door slams shut, and as the car pulls out, five more luxury vehicles pull out after it. Iruka didn’t even notice the idling among the noise in his head.

Iruka leaves the parking lot feeling like he’s stepped out of the twilight zone.

~

He tosses the business card in the trash can as soon as he gets home.

 _Sleazy bastard._ Iruka doesn’t need dirty money from some weirdo. If he wanted to go out and strip he’d do it himself!

Iruka throws open the pantry, scowling as he sets away his groceries. 

_Asshole._ He’s not a charity case. There’s nothing worse than some rich twat thinking they can just toss you a cup of change and expect to be your guardian angel. Been there, done that.

Iruka slams the cabinet door and sighs, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

Well. Getting some free groceries out of the ordeal wasn’t so bad.

Shit, Iruka needs to call his bank again. 

~

Nothing fixes a crappy week better than a call from Naruto. He still keeps Naruto’s bedroom door shut so he won’t do something stupid like, burst into tears every time he walks by it.

“You’re eating vegetables, right?” Iruka asks, phone against his shoulder, trying desperately to scrape off the dried chili sauce that decided to torture this poor Tupperware. “Like, real vegetables? Green ones? With leaves?”

_“Hey! Hahaha, I told you I was! I think Sasuke and I are really getting a hang of this cooking thing. But I wish I’d payed more attention when you were around.”_

“Told you. Have you two strangled each other yet?”

_“Not yet, but we got pretty close a couple times. That teme is way too touchy about his toothbrush.”_

Iruka sputters, “Did you – actually, I don’t want to know. Respect his personal space, Naruto.”

_“Meh, he’s got too much of it anyways. We’ve been getting along um, pretty good though. He helps me study.”_

There’s a softness in his voice that Iruka chooses not to comment on.

“He always has. How are classes? You’re not working too many hours, are you?”

_“Errr – good. I actually um…wanted to talk to you about something, yanno.”_

Iruka freezes. He shuts off the water and wipes his hands.

“What did you do?!”

Naruto laughs, _“Nothing I swear! I just um, I was uh…I was thinking about dropping some classes and getting another job.”_

Iruka goes silent. He adjusts the phone against his ear and quells the immediate rush of anger. Iruka soothes his voice calm instead. 

“Why would you want to do that?”

_“It’s just…you’re paying for so much right now. I know we took out a loan but like, we weren’t approved for the housing loan and – and I only make enough to cover food and gas and I don’t think it’s right that you have to work so hard when we’re not even blood r-“_

“Do _not_ finish that sentence,” Iruka hisses, heart breaking. “I will come down there and beat your ass myself.”

 _“Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t…”_ Naruto sighs. _“I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to make stuff hard for you. I don’t mind going to school longer if I can work a second job and take some of the stress off.”_

Iruka runs his tongue against the back of his teeth, and fights back the tears. He’s proud that his voice comes out so steady.

“Naruto… that’s not something you should have to worry about.”

_“It’s really no big deal.”_

“It is! If you’re not a full-time student, what will happen to your scholarships?”

Naruto goes silent, as if he hadn’t considered that. Iruka sighs, and leans up against the countertop. His apartment is too dark, too quiet without Naruto running around to cause trouble. He can almost see the door flying open, pudgy little hands covered in body-paint and the walls stained blue.

_“I think I could look for another job anyways. There’s a campus custodial position that works three am to seven. It’d be enough to still go to class.”_

Iruka doesn’t want this for him. He knows he hasn’t been able to give Naruto the perfect life – but he had hoped, maybe, it’d be better than what Naruto’s had. Blood or not, Iruka _loves him,_ wants to give him the world.

But he also knows Naruto better than anyone. Once he’s gotten an idea in that thick skull of his, it’d take a whole excavation team to dig it out. Iruka has to stop this _now._

“Don’t get a second job.”

_“Iruka – “_

“You don’t need to worry about money. I just want you to focus on school.”

_“But -!”_

“I actually wanted to tell you something too.” Iruka bites his thumbnail, and squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, fuck fuck.

_“Wh…what is it?”_

“I got that promotion.”

Radio silence, and then;

_“What?? NO way!!! Congrats! Wow, I’m so proud of you. I knew they’d choose you, you’re way too smart. Man, that’s awesome, huh?”_

“Y-Yeah…” Iruka breathes, trying to level his voice against the pit in his stomach. “The pay raise will be good too, so don’t think too hard about it, okay?”

Oh god, oh god, what the hell is he thinking _?_ Lying to Naruto? Taking some sleazy offer from a _stranger in a parking lot –_

_“Okay! Wow, that’s so exciting. You’re amazing, yanno? I’ll definitely get good grades this semester.”_

“You better,” Iruka chokes out. “Go back to studying, okay?”

_“Alright! Thanks for the recipe. I love you!”_

“I love you too,” Iruka manages, and as soon as the call ends, he dives for the trash can.

_I'm sorry Naruto. I have to break my promise._

~

Iruka googles the name on the business card before he calls, because he’s not a fucking idiot. It doesn’t smell great, but Iruka is able to read the smudged print well enough.

There are three key things listed on his Wikipedia bio, and it’s almost enough to stop Iruka’s heart right there and then.

_Hatake Kakashi_

_> Heir and CEO of Hateco Industries _

_> Voted GQ’s #1 Most Eligible Bachelor six years in a row_

_> Net Worth: 1.2 Billion dollars _

Iruka slides down the length of his bed, until his knees meet the floor, and his face presses into his arms. 

~

It takes all of Sunday to muster up the courage to call. He even misses beer night with his old colleagues.

Anko has been texting him nonstop asking if he’s okay, and Iruka has been lying fantastically. He’s never been able to keep secrets from her, but this is the one thing he just can’t talk about.

Iruka has paced a trench his apartment, nearly torn out the strands of his hair – pressed dial and ran – but it only rings once before it answers.

“I’ll take the job,” Iruka blurts, before Kakashi can even greet him.

A woman’s voice answers, _“Very good, Umino-sensei. Kakashi-sama has been awaiting your call. He is available Monday evening at four-thirty p.m., is this acceptable?”_

Damn, Iruka should’ve expected a secretary number. He wants to curse, but if Kakashi is willing to make good on the promises he made in that parking lot, then goddamn it, Iruka will bite his tongue.

“Four-thirty is great. Thank you very much, miss.”

~

Hateco is a big sleek building smack in the middle of downtown. It’s tall, and fits in among the other high-rises there. Iruka doesn’t come to the business district often – he’s actually not sure if he’s ever had a need to come here at all.

He’s required to check in with a guard at the garage, and with a guard at the door, _and_ with the receptionist at the desk, and then a _second_ check in with the secretary near the top floor.

It’s all very clean, and a bit empty, if Iruka is being honest. Most of employees are headed home at this time, and Iruka tries to steer out of the way as he walks through the hall.

The secretary’s desk is covered in pearly marble, sat underneath a chandelier at a high ceiling. It’s so _gaudy,_ Iruka feels underdressed in his slacks and dress shirt. He also kinda’ feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest.

Does everyone know why he’s here? Are they judging him? Does he look desperate? _Is he_ that desperate?

“I’ve buzzed you in,” the secretary says, and her smile is surprisingly warm. “Hatake-sama will be out momentarily.”

“Drop the sama,” Kakashi says, appearing out of the doorway. It’s a rich wood, tall with moldings, fitted with foggy glass. “Come on in, Sensei.”

“Thank you,” Iruka bows to the secretary, and then to Kakashi.

“Take a seat,” Kakashi says, and Iruka swallows, keeping a professional face about him. He is not going to be made a fool, not on his fucking watch, CEO or not.

Iruka looks up at him. Kakashi isn’t wearing the fabric mask, and unfortunately, he’s very handsome. The scar over his eye extends down his cheek, almost to the beauty mark on his chin.

Iruka sits, and Kakashi watches him as he takes his chair behind his desk.

“You had me worried,” Kakashi says, crossing one leg over the other. “Sunday night came, and I thought I was going to lose my bet with Tenzo.”

Iruka narrows his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Tell me why I’m here.”

“You need the money,” Kakashi says, brunt and cruel. “And I need a sugar baby.”

“From the looks of it,” Iruka gestures, “I don’t think you really _need_ anything.”

Kakashi folds his fingers together, placing them under his chin, and his stare alone is enough to make Iruka feel dumb and insignificant.

“Not necessarily. I’m assuming you know my title.”

“Sure.”

Kakashi hits the side of his desk with his knee, and Iruka would think it accidental, if a short click didn’t follow. Iruka recognizes the near-silent hum of a noise-canceler.

“This is confidential information. Fun stuff, the kind of gossip that could get you, and me in trouble.”

“Oh,” Iruka blinks. “That’s good.”

“I’d make you sign a confidentiality notice with your contract, but I have a feeling you’d want details beforehand anyways.”

A net worth of a _billion_ dollars. Iruka has a feeling he’d get as far as opening his mouth, before a sniper would have him dead.

“I don’t even have anyone to tell,” Iruka admits.

“I know,” Kakashi says, leaning forward to tap a manila folder on his desk. “Background check. Umino Iruka, orphaned at twelve, all around good samartian. Adopted an orphaned family-friend at eighteen. Graduated from UT with a bachelor’s in education, and a minor in art history.”

Iruka feels cornered, face going hot.

“Th-that’s an invasion of privacy!”

Kakashi’s smile is unsettling, no matter how handsome he is. “You can find anything on the internet, sensei. I’m sure you know.”

Iruka is getting increasingly annoyed by the minute. He thinks of Naruto, and forces his tone down.

“Okay. Then do you mind telling me why you’re picking up random men in a Freshies parking lot?”

Kakashi’s gaze slides through him. Like a finely sharpened sword.

“I’ve had to sell stock recently. Ups and downs in the market, you see. The majority of the company is mine, but I have investors in places. They’re worried about expansion.”

Iruka blinks. “Isn’t Hateco already overseas?”

“Wherever we can get our hands in, sure,” Kakashi shrugs. “But they want to become more of a megacorp, something to battle along Google and Royal Dutch.”

Okay. Woah.

The surprise must show on his face, because Kakashi’s expressionless mask cracks into brief amusement. It’s gone quickly, but it was there.

“There are a handful of _very_ influential Chinese heiresses that my advisors want me to marry.” Kakashi slides his head into his hand, and sighs. “I have zero interest in marriage, nor do I have any interest in combining my dad’s company with someone else’s. I need a stopgap.”

Everything clicks at once. Iruka’s eyes nearly bug out of his head.

“Wait, _me?_ You want to use _me_ as an excuse to get your stockholders off your back?”

“Mm, clever little sensei.”

“Are you crazy? You don’t even know me!”

“And I don’t really need to,” Kakashi says, tone dull. “I need something cute to parade around. Arm candy is a bit of a culture up here. If it looks like I’m infatuated with some sweet little thing, they’ll leave me be.”

Iruka’s face flushes hot, and he scratches at his scar. He’s not particularly attractive; more plain-faced than a playboy bunny for a multi-millionaire.

He would like to argue that he is not _sweet_ or _little,_ but Iruka came here expecting something way worse. A tall, chilly thirty-something trying to tell his council to fuck off is kind of an improvement.

“Why me?” Iruka asks.

Kakashi shrugs, “You were around.”

Iruka sighs, not really surprised. You can’t get any more direct than that. Iruka can understand the matter of convenience; it’s why he’s here in the first place.

Kakashi slides a stack of papers across the table and sets a pen on top. “Sign on the lines marked with red. You can read it thoroughly if you’d like, but I’ll give you the rundown. I’ll cover all rent, living and recreational expenses. You’ll receive a platinum card in your name. Your adopted son’s tuition will also be paid off in full.”

Iruka’s head snaps up.

“Wait – wh – really? But that’s – it’s – that’s so expensive.”

Kakashi raises a single eyebrow, unimpressed.

“And?”

Iruka rolls his eyes. _Showoff._

“It doesn’t seem like I’ll be doing enough to warrant pay like this.”

“It is, and it isn’t.” Kakashi leans across the desk, and Iruka feels his heart stop. The drone of his voice drops raspy and predatorial. “You’re posing as my partner, but you’re also _my_ _baby._ I’ll take care of you however I see fit. You will come to all parties, poker games, clubs, dinners, and specified business meetings. You will sleep at my apartment when needed to keep up appearances. It’ll be socially demanding, there will be late nights, and you will have more attention on you than you’ve ever experienced.”

Iruka stares down at the contract. Kakashi’s tone feels imposing, like he’s trying to scare him away. Iruka hums thoughtfully.

“Stand around, look pretty, and act like I’m obsessed with you.”

Kakashi half smiles, wolflike.

“You’ve got it.”

“Are we working on a timeframe?”

“You must commit to three months. After that, you’re welcome to terminate the contract. I’m liable to terminate at any day’s notice.”

Iruka nods. He looks back to Kakashi, tone serious.

“My kid absolutely cannot know about this.”

Kakashi looks like he couldn’t possibly care less, lounged back in the chair, head turned toward the window.

“Easy.”

When Iruka’s finished reading the contract front to back, he signs.

“Great,” Kakashi says, clapping his hands and startling Iruka upright. “You start tomorrow. A car will be by to pick you up and my assistant will deliver a suit early morning.”

Iruka frowns, “I have a suit.”

“No you don’t. Go away.”

~

True to his word, a box of clothes is brought up to his apartment before he leaves for the school.

Except, these aren’t clothes. They’re like, glorified stripwear _disguised_ as clothing.

Okay, that’s kind of a lie. The suit jacket and pants are extremely nice, and probably more expensive than all the furniture in his house combined. They’re shimmery, red and black with a woven floral pattern. He doesn’t even want to know how Kakashi’s assistant knew his size.

The shirt however, is some kind of stretchy lace, thin and intricate and very revealing. There are leather accessories, and a choker that seems more like a dog collar. It’s not ugly; more like, _tastefully slutty._

Ah well. He’s playing a part, isn’t he?

Iruka isn’t sure how he’s supposed to pretend to be infatuated with someone as stony and all-around dickish as Kakashi. Iruka has only met him twice, but he’s brunt and rude and _snobby,_ god. Iruka almost wishes he was the obsessed, clingy type of man he’s dated in the past. At least Iruka could pretend to reciprocate.

Instead he’ll just look like some needy toy begging a _brick wall_ to come play.

Maybe this is a mistake. Is he being too selfish, even in his desire to help Naruto?

Something shiny catches his eye, and Iruka finds a platinum card tucked in the breast pocket of the blazer. Iruka flips it around in his fingers and hums.

Maybe he can pretend to love a brick wall.

~

Iruka is immediately offended by the way Kakashi looks at him.

He was jittery all through his classes. It’s not good to be distracted around elementary children, but by the end of the day, they’d worn him down enough to earn a movie for the last hour.

Iruka slicked his clean hair back into a ponytail, put on the fancy little outfit and met the car downstairs at the specified time. Kakashi was sitting near the far window, nose in his phone, uninterested in Iruka all together.

Iruka climbs in, Kakashi looks up, and that’s it. 

“Not bad, sensei.”

The tone is so flat, it throws Iruka through a loop.

“Uh…thanks?”

Kakashi gives him a critical look _,_ unimpressed and judgmental, and Iruka can almost taste his doubt. As if he’s thinking there is no possible way Iruka can pull this off.

And – as big as Iruka’s bleeding heart is – he is still horribly and insufferably petty.

Kakashi may know about him, but he has no idea _who_ Iruka is.

So Iruka bows politely, bites his tongue and says with a soft regard.

“Thank you for the suit, Kakashi-sama.”

A quick flash of surprise, and it’s gone. Kakashi leans back as the car begins to drive; he crosses one leg over the other, and shoves his nose back in his phone.

“Drop the sama.”

Iruka knows where they’re going. Well – he has more of a general idea. There was a typed note sitting in the bottom of the box that described the location, client type, and meeting time.

Apparently there’s an underground bar near the north side called the _Squeaky Wheel._ Iruka couldn’t find a single thing about it when he researched the name, so he assumes it’s on a need-to-know basis. Influencers meet for drinks and poker, and that’s all Iruka knows.

His job is to be a trophy. Iruka isn’t sure how much that trophy is worth, but damn if he won’t try. 

“So um…what would you like me to call you? In there?”

“Kakashi, or sir,” he says. His eyes turn towards him again, and he feels so far away on the other side of the car. “Or daddy.”

Right. Iruka tries not to let his emotions show on his face, but Kakashi snorts anyways.

“Don’t tell me you’re having doubts now, sensei. You signed the contract.”

“And I’m going to do it,” Iruka snaps.

Kakashi lifts an eyebrow, maybe surprised.

“Just keep quiet and follow my lead. It’s not rocket science.”

“You’re not paying me to be a duck,” Iruka huffs back. “I know what I’m doing.”

It looks like he actually caught Kakashi off guard that time. Iruka feels kind of proud.

“Oh? Done this before?”

“Not to this level…” Iruka fiddles with the cuffs around his wrists. “But I know what it means to be an accessory.”

Kakashi stares at him for a beat too long, before his gaze turns to the window.

“Hm.”

Kakashi is dressed in all black. Coat, pants, shirt and tie. They’re silky enough to pick up the light, and it contrasts his fair complexion. He _is_ naturally sexy, but it’s muddled by his shitty personality.

Iruka’s own suit is like a second skin, tight and revealing, the lapels smaller in width than a usual jacket, and you can see his entire chest through the lace.

The drive is quiet and tense.

Their car pulls into a hidden valet behind the hotel; it’s been coned off from the public, and there are security guards pacing the perimeter. Iruka tenses, and Kakashi sighs as he pockets his phone.

“Don’t act nervous, or they’ll know. Follow me and don’t shake anyone’s hand. This isn’t that kind of event.”

“Right,” Iruka says.

The car is parked. There’s shuffling as the driver rolls down their window and shows his credentials to the security guard.

“They are not allowed to touch you,” Kakashi says, voice lowering, eyes suddenly serious. “Understand?”

Iruka scoffs, “Just because I’m pretending to be a slut that doesn’t mean I _am_ one.” Not that there's anything wrong with that. 

Kakashi makes a noise, and grabs for Iruka’s wrist before he can open the door. His hand is large, and shockingly strong.

“No, not you. My associates. I’ll be around to play a safeguard, but you need to watch your back. Not everyone is as well-mannered as me.”

Iruka accidentally barks a laugh. He covers his mouth with his free hand and squeaks _sorry,_ but Kakashi is already staring at him.

“Got it, I got it,” Iruka whispers. “I can handle myself.”

“Good.” Kakashi nods. “Remember your briefing. Let them open the doors for you. Make nice with the other candies –“

“—and don’t drink anything not poured from the bar, I’ve got it.”

“Good. Take my arm as soon as we exit.”

The doors are pulled open for them. Iruka steps out his side, and Kakashi walks around the front of the vehicle to grab him. Iruka straightens his back, tips his chin up, and takes Kakashi’s arm like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Alright, this is my stop,” Tenzo, Kakashi’s runner, tips his hat. “I’ll be back with the car around one. Win big this time, boss.”

Kakashi’s voice is smooth, a little less guarded than it was in the car.

“Sure. Kisame won’t fool me with his cheating again.”

“Damn straight. You look lovely, Iruka. Please enjoy yourself.”

Iruka nods, and figures it’s okay to say, “Thank you.” 

Kakashi begins to move, so Iruka follows. The hotel is grand and luxurious, chiseled and lit up in orange lights, but they’re not led inside.

Security walks them around a narrow side alley. There are stairs that descend underground, and Iruka is not so dumb as to ignore the security cameras lined along the bushes.

They’re allowed entry through a doorway, and the mood changes immediately.

The carpets are a plush red, and the walls are lined in printed wallpaper. Couples are conversing along the walkway, and Kakashi stalks past them, so Iruka does too.

The other candies are – well. They’re beautiful, really. They look _expensive,_ dripped in jewelry and low cut dresses. The men they accompany are fives at best, even if they’re bloody rich. A handful are making out against the walls and – ick, it’s kinda’ gross.

Iruka leans a little closer to Kakashi as they walk, now that security is far enough behind them. He nuzzles a bit, just to appear affectionate.

“Why not choose a baby with status?”

Kakashi’s hand slips around his waist, and it fits so well against his ribs, Iruka goes a little warm from it. Kakashi’s breath is hot against his ear.

“Candies are nobodies. They’re throwaways, things to spend money on. No one with status would ever humiliate themselves to become a candy.”

“Oh,” Iruka clips.

“Common people are easy, but they’re money-hungry. There’s people who aren’t, sure, but everyone wants something.” Kakashi’s step slows, forcing Iruka to look him in the eye. His voice is still low, but it sounds deeper this way, almost raspier. “That’s why I wanted someone like you. No games.”

Just a job.

“Right,” Iruka says. He slides his hand along Kakashi’s back, and adjusts his gait to lean more into Kakashi’s arm. He can already feel people looking at him as they walk. “That lady there. She’s different.”

“Keen eye. See her dress, and her jewelry? That’s not a mistress, that’s an heiress. You’ll do good to know the difference.”

They enter a large, round room. There are tall ceilings, and cages cut into the walls with slow moving dancers in them. It’s nothing like a club – more like a high-society meeting. The music is low and acoustic, and there are multiple poker tables and couches.

“Kakashi!” A voice greets. “Late as always, you pig.”

“Kakuzu,” Kakashi nods. “You started without me.”

“We’ll deal you in, come sit.”

Iruka isn’t introduced, nor is he acknowledged. It’s jarring at first – but it is what it is. People are starring with a critical eye, but Iruka is an _accessory,_ not a guest.

It’s degrading, but Iruka can deal with it.

Six people are sat around the table. Some have partners respectfully at their side, others have girls on their laps. For a moment Iruka is unsure of where Kakashi would like him, but he turns to Iruka before he can voice the thought.

Kakashi’s hand cups his cheek, face leaning close – and he’s surprised to find callouses on his hand. Iruka didn’t think desk-jobs had callouses.

Kakashi’s mouth skims his cheek, and Iruka nearly jumps because it _burns._

“Go have a drink, baby.”

He won’t let Kakashi catch him off guard. Iruka hums happily, and drags his fingers up the fine presses of Kakashi’s suit jacket.

“And what would you like?”

Kakashi gives a pleased look at his confidence.

“Old fashioned. Thank you, gorgeous.”

Whiskey during poker? Either he’s an alcoholic, or a _very_ seasoned player. Iruka saunters off, and Kakashi takes a seat at the table.

Iruka orders drinks at the bar, and fiddles with the buckle on the back of his collar. He thought the fastens to originally be metal, but judging by the weight, he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s silver.

He takes a moment to exhale and study the other people in the room. There are scantily dressed women gossiping on the couch, and he wonders if he’s expected to socialize with them. If they’re not investors, then it probably wouldn’t be wrong to.

Iruka takes a shot for himself, and carries the whiskey glass back to Kakashi. He’s already been dealt in, and his demeanor is completely different. His face is unreadable, but he’s not _cold_ like earlier. More – professional, a neutral kind of friendly.

Fake. 

He slides the whiskey to his elbow, and Kakashi pets across his cheek without looking up from his hand.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Iruka flushes, but doesn’t let his expression show through. He slips around the back of his chair and comfortably rests his hands over Kakashi’s chest, cheek pressed in his hair. It actually smells nice.

“Pretty one, that,” a man says. The girl in his lap is working a hickey into his neck, and fuck that, Iruka won’t stoop _that_ low.

“Good ass, too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you bring a babe around here.”

It’s strange to hear them speak of Iruka as if he’s not even in the room. He peeks a look at Kakashi’s cards instead, and is a impressed to see a good hand.

“I’m a man of firsts,” Kakashi says evenly.

“Ha, first to bust, maybe.”

“Eyy, let him live,” Kakuzu snorts, sipping a drink. “Mans’ gotta’ get off somehow.”

“Maybe it’ll loosen the stick up your ass.”

“Oh, I’m _loose,_ ” Kakashi drawls, and slides his winning hand against the table.

“God fuck!”

“Dirty cheater.”

“You dealt the hand,” Kakashi says, and absently reaches up to pet across Iruka’s cheek again. Iruka noses into it, maybe a little horrified to find the reaction involuntarily.

The next game is much longer. They discuss petty things that Iruka has no interest in, but he’s still nosy enough to listen. A second game has started up at another table, and a waitress comes by with cocktails, of which, Iruka helps himself.

Kakashi takes the drink before he can sip it. Iruka wants to bark _hey! –_ but Kakashi gives him an even look, and slides the cocktail back on the tray.

_Oh shit. I didn’t watch the bartender pour it._

Iruka silently curses himself for fucking up already, but Kakashi covers the movement by tugging on Iruka’s wrist, and urging him into his lap.

“Can’t have you too silly, can I, baby?”

“No sir,” Iruka sighs with false dejection, and winds his arms around Kakashi’s neck. Kakashi shifts under him, and a hand squeezes tight into his hip.

The elder gentlemen at the table are staring holes into the side of his face. If Iruka had to place a bet, he’d say they’re the old geezers giving Kakashi a hard time.

“I’ll let you look at my cards, but you have to promise not to tell on me,” Kakashi says sweetly.

Iruka hums, nosing to his ear.

“Who says I haven’t looked already?”

“Don’t be bad,” Kakashi reminds, and Iruka turns away from the table. He watches Kakashi’s face instead. It’s easier to fixate on his expressions, rather than the other people in the room.

Iruka has played poker, and he’s not exactly a veteran, but he knows enough to see that Kakashi has _no_ tells. It’s impossible to know what’s a bluff and what’s the truth, what’s real teasing and what’s an act. He’ll laugh softly at a joke and slide his face back to neutrality like it’s nothing. Iruka isn’t _stupid,_ intelligence is attractive.

As a grown man, Iruka hasn’t sat in many laps in his life, but it’s not as ridiculous as he thought it’d be. Kakashi is broad, and his free hand rests against Iruka’s thigh, and Iruka zones out just playing with the hairs on the back of Kakashi’s neck.

Kakashi’s eye slides to look at him, and Iruka startles. He hadn’t realized the commotion at the table – and the other candies stand as if they’ve been dismissed.

“We’re going to go talk business,” Kakashi explains below his breath, thumb tracing the shell of his ear. “You can go play.”

“Don’t go far,” Iruka pouts, and kind of means it a little. Kakashi hums as he squeezes his thigh, and Kakashi doesn’t need to know that his reaction is genuine.

~

Iruka gets a cocktail from the bar, and moves to the couches where the rest of the party remains.

Based off the jewelry and the clothes, Iruka can assume they’re the same as him. Four girls, and one other man. Iruka takes a seat by two women, bringing his glass to catch the conversation. 

“He’s taking us to Cancun next week,” a lady in red smiles, giddy and young.

“Ugh, it’s so not fair.” Another sighs, “All we do is go on _business meetings,_ and it’s never anyplace fun.”

The first woman turns to him, “Hey, it’s the fresh meat! You’re Hatake’s new score, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Iruka nods.

“I’m Myra, and this is Hisa. We’ve been around for a couple months.”

“Iruka,” he greets. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You look lovely, don’t you?” Hisa smiles. “I didn’t know Hatake had a baby.”

“I’ve never seen him bring one before,” Myra taps her chin. “If I’d known, maybe I would’ve worn a different dress.”

“You’d have to steal him from me,” Iruka teases, and is silently relieved when they laugh.

“He must be gay, then. You’re not the typical twink I see brought around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Male sugar babies are usually _very_ feminine,” Hisa explains. “It’s in their safezone, blah blah something about dominance and masculinity. But you’re quite cut, aren’t you?”

Iruka flushes, “Um, well…”

“I love the collar. What else has he bought you?”

Iruka struggles to come up with something, and manages to lie cheekily, “Nothing I can show you,” and the women laugh again.

“You’re funny. This is always the best part of the evening,” Myra lifts a drink. “When the wigs fuck off and I can finally speak my mind again.”

“I’m new to…all this,” Iruka says carefully. “Does this lifestyle ever bore you?”

Hisa snorts, “God yes, but I drive a Jag, sweetheart. I’ll yawn to tears before I give her up.”

Myra looks into her glass. “I’m empty. Come with me, love?”

“Sure. We’ll be right back, Iruka.”

Iruka nods as they stand, and then shoots down the rest of his drink. This isn’t so bad, actually. Having someone speak to him like a human felt good. Still, Iruka nervously eyes the shut door where Kakashi and the others retreated.

His cheek burns from where Kakashi kissed him. For someone so disinterested, the grip on his thigh had been _tight._

A new body slides in next to him, and Iruka recognizes the man as one of the influencers from the other poker table.

“Hello there, beautiful,” he says, and his presence is overpowering. He nods towards the door, “Is your daddy in there?”

Iruka is hesitant to answer. He nods instead, and raises an eyebrow as the man wraps an arm over the couch, just above his shoulders. He’s tan, with slight scarring under his eyes, and buzzed, deep blue hair.

“Can I help you?” Iruka asks.

“Just keeping you company,” he smiles, sharklike. “It’s your first time here and that rotten Kakashi just leaves you all on your own? Pretty rude, don’tcha’ think?”

“I don’t mind being alone,” Iruka says. “I know he’ll come back for me.”

If it sounds a little clipped, the man doesn’t take offense.

“Hmmm, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger alright,” he grins. “I’m Kisame. I can show you a good time, if you’d like to get out of here.”

Iruka narrows his eyes, and turns his head the other way.

“No thanks.”

“I’m a _way_ better fuck than Kakashi, I promise you that –“

Iruka senses the hand before it approaches. He snatches his wrist instinctually, twisting Kisame’s hand away from his thigh and pinning him down with a glare.

“Only Kakashi is allowed to touch me,” Iruka hisses.

Kisame’s eyes flare with a sudden fury, and Iruka has just enough time to think _oh, fuck fuck fuck_ before another body approaches the couch.

“Yup. And don’t you forget it.”

Iruka looks up, and Kakashi doesn’t move. He just stares Kisame down with his hands in his pockets, gaze cold as ice. Iruka lets go of his wrist quickly, and Kisame rubs it with a frown.

“Tch…feisty little thing.”

“Don’t touch my stuff,” Kakashi replies.

Kisame grins, standing to clap Kakashi on the shoulder.

“He’s well trained.” 

“You think I’d bring just anyone around you?”

Kisame laughs, and a new girl grabs his attention. Kakashi extends a hand, and Iruka is pulled to his feet. Kakashi’s look is unreadable, and Iruka feels cornered.

“Sorry,” he whispers, shifting closer as Kakashi’s hand slides to his lower back. 

“You did good,” Kakashi mumbles, and the praise feels warm. Iruka’s heart sputters, and he turns his gaze away from Kakashi’s.

“So I didn’t blow it?”

“He knows he’s not supposed to touch you. He was testing my resolve,” Kakashi speaks into his ear. “Another hour, and we’ll be gone.”

“Thank goodness, it’s hot in here.”

“Take this off,” Kakashi says, and Iruka flushes as he feels the jacket peeled off him. He’s essentially shirtless now, nothing but black lace cut to his biceps and up and under the leather collar.

Kakashi hands the coat to a waitress, and then runs his hand down Iruka’s lower back. It feels so alarmingly genuine, that Iruka has to remind himself that this is _fake._

“You’re convincing,” Kakashi admits. “Keep it up. We’ll talk later.”

People are watching, so Iruka shifts closer, breathing in the smell of his cologne.

“Right.” 

~

Kakashi slumps as soon as they reach the car. He sighs, slouching down in the leather, knees spread around the seat in front of him.

“Thank Christ that’s over.”

Iruka stifles a yawn, but it turns into a laugh.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one saying that?”

“Socializing is exhausting,” Kakashi explains, arm thrown over his eyes. “Especially with those types. They’re constantly watching everything you do, analyzing _every little thing_ you say.”

“Drama queen,” Tenzo says from the driver’s seat, and Kakashi thumps the back of the headrest with his fist. It’s so informal compared to the atmosphere they just left. Iruka sighs and allows himself to relax.

Tenzo closes the privacy window, and Kakashi turns his head to look at Iruka.

“So where did all that come from, hm?”

“What?” Iruka blinks, taking down his ponytail to re-tie it looser.

“You were a natural in there. I thought I was going to be passing you as some flustered virgin.”

“Excuse you,” Iruka muffles around the hairband in his mouth. “I am neither of those things.”

“Well I see that now. Care to share with the class?”

Iruka finishes his ponytail and sighs as it lessens his headache. Kakashi has loosened his tie already, and the peek of pale collarbones and a sleek neck makes Iruka feel like some repressed pilgrim that’s been flustered by a mere show of ankle.

“Hmmm. It seems not everything was in my file, then.”

Intrigued, Kakashi gives him his full attention, and it’s like holding the stare of a feral wolf.

“Do I need to start guessing?”

“I used to wait tables for a gay bar,” Iruka explains. “It was good money while I was putting myself through school. I’m too boring to be a stripper, but sometimes we’d get customers that wanted a private dance from the wait staff. _That_ was a good tip.”

Now that Iruka thinks about it, he probably made more at that bar than he has with his degree. Fuck his life.

Kakashi’s eyebrows shoot upwards.

“Hmm. So the escort life isn’t far off.”

“I had to wear these little spandex shorts and bow ties,” Iruka shivers.

“That I’d pay to see.”

Iruka turns towards him and smiles.

“You already are.”

Kakashi snorts, and this is the most relaxed that Iruka has seen him yet. He’s visibly tired, but Iruka can’t stop looking at the popped collar around his neck.

“Do you quit yet?” Kakashi asks.

“Nope,” Iruka stifles another yawn. “I might doze off during break tomorrow, but this is _definitely_ not the worst job I’ve had.”

Kakashi smiles at him. It’s without teeth, and it’s very soft, lit up occasionally by the passing streetlights. It’s gone like it came, and Kakashi rests his head against the window, a juvenile move for someone worth millions.

“Good. There’s a wine tasting on Friday with a similar crowd. You’ll be spending the night at my place to uphold appearances. Have a bag ready when the car comes.”

“Fun. Will I be dressed like this?”

“It’s traditional attire,” Kakashi says, with a grin a little too evil. “So the answer is no.”

“Oh lord.”

~

Iruka doesn’t sleep through lunch, but he does zone out hard enough to miss the knocking on his door for a solid minute.

It still feels a bit surreal. Iruka was sure he’d wake up in the morning and the suit would be a pumpkin, and the jewelry would be little mice eating through his drawer.

But it was still there. That night really happened.

“Iruka?”

He jolts, and almost spills the tea off his desk.

“Ah, Anko! Sorry, sorry, come in.”

“Are you hungover?” Anko squints, grabbing a child’s chair and dragging it to the desk. “You look terrible.”

“No, but you always make me feel so good about myself,” Iruka replies, making room. She rolls her eyes.

“Get off it, I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep much last night.”

Anko wiggles her eyebrows, “Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean – _stop,_ it wasn’t like that. I just had a lot on my mind.”

Iruka prays she won’t see through his lies, but Anko knows how hard Naruto’s move has been on him, so Anko nods.

“I see. I’m having the girls over for drinks Friday. You in?”

“Well I um…” Iruka rubs the back of his head. “I uh, actually do have a date that night.”

Anko gasps, “Really! Who who who?!”

“Umm… you won’t know him,” Iruka winces. “Just some guy I met at the grocery store the other day.”

“Shut up,” Anko grins. “That’s so cheesy, I love it. Is he hot?”

“Yeah,” Iruka sighs, because at least that one isn’t a lie.

Anko slaps his shoulder excitedly, and Iruka stirs his chopsticks around in his ramen with a heavy heart. 

~

He _should_ be grading homework right now, but Iruka has made his bed, so he’s going to lie in it.

He’s on his back, staring at the stippling on the ceiling, arms spread out and a mess of emotions.

The rent check came in the mail today. Iruka almost cried.

He knows this situation is wrong, but he doesn’t feel as guilty as he should. It’s a contract between _adults,_ right? Iruka is happy, Kakashi is getting what he wants – there’s nothing wrong with this, right? Three months, and Naruto’s tuition will be paid in full.

Iruka presses his face to his hands and groans. He just wishes he didn’t have to _lie_ about it. But if Naruto found out what he was doing, he’d march straight onto the first train home.

No. Iruka _has_ to do this.

He runs his hand along his cheek, and thinks of strange callouses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * ha-teh-co
> 
> this entire fic came to me in a 30 second thats-so-raven style vision, and who am i to deny gods will


	2. Chapter 2

Their escort is a shiny black limo this evening. Tenzo is waiting at the door like usual, and Iruka thanks him as he crawls in the car. 

“Hello,” Iruka bows.

Kakashi takes one look at him, and turns back to his phone with a frown.

“Hm.”

“Well you’re in a good mood today,” Iruka huffs, slamming the car door shut before Tenzo can do it for him.

“I hate wine,” Kakashi says. He makes a face and a specific voice, “ _Mmm,_ this merlot has such a _spicy finish_. No, fuck off, it tastes like chalk.”

Iruka can’t help his laugh. He snorts into his hand, and Kakashi eyes him, his demeanor softening a little. He shifts in the seat as Tenzo begins to drive, and his eyes feel hot as they run down Iruka’s body.

“You look good,” Kakashi says. Iruka looks down at himself and fights off a blush.

“Thank you. So do you.”

Iruka is somewhat embarrassed to be in a kimono rather than a haori, and it’s a revealing one at that. It’s slippery and thin, and it constantly slides off his shoulders, and the obi is a bastardization at best. There is also a _slit_ all the way up to his thigh, and Iruka cannot fathom how this attire is called _traditional._ Still, the color is a pretty blue, sensual with silver patterns.

Kakashi’s dark haori looks just as expensive, if not more so.

“So why this attire?”

“We’re welcoming some American embassies who want to dip into the culture.” Kakashi waves his hand around, “My associates thought it’d be a good idea to meet in the middle. It’s dumb, but if we earn their favor, we could sway our way to some better tariffs.”

“It’s who you know,” Iruka shrugs.

“Exactly. They’ll have their own candies, so act no differently.”

It turns out to be the truth. The event holds more men with sugar-babies, more women with escorts three times their age, more drinking and strange societal customs. The conversations are boring, and Iruka takes to people-watching against Kakashi’s arm.

He doesn’t drink, because the wine isn’t for him. Kakashi hates it, and Iruka has to bite his tongue and blink away the laughter whenever Kakashi throws his wine into a houseplant.

They’re at a vineyard manor, a place that Iruka didn’t even know existed out here. It’s extravagant and over the top and a bit much, if Iruka says so.

He sees Myra at an elder gentleman’s arm, and Iruka nods a hello to her. She smiles a greeting, and continues to giggle at the man’s side.

Kakashi is a beacon of professionalism. Straight posture, well-spoken and pretty damn intelligent. When they approach the embassies, Iruka is downright floored to hear him speak fluent English. Iruka knows enough to pick up certain words, but he’s impressed that Kakashi speaks without an accent. It’s apparent that he learned the language very young.

He wonders what other languages Kakashi can speak.

Iruka goes a little hot, and tries to think of anything else while Kakashi’s voice rumbles next to him.

His concern isn’t the event. There’s not much for Iruka to do here anyways, besides curl up against Kakashi’s side and look the other way when his kimono slips down one shoulder. Iruka worries himself over tonight.

He’s unsure of what Kakashi expects of him. This part of the deal has been left vague, and he wonders if it’s a good idea to go sleep at a strangers house. He’s not sure if they’re still strangers. Iruka would say they are; he hardly knows anything of Kakashi. Nothing, besides his limited Wikipedia article.

Kakashi laughs politely at something the embassy says, and Iruka knows enough to tell that it’s a fake laugh.

When the company drifts, and they’re given new wine, Kakashi quickly slides the glass against Iruka’s bottom lip, startling him. 

“Swallow quickly,” Kakashi demands.

Iruka does, glad to get at least a little alcohol in his system.

“Run out of houseplants?” Iruka swallows.

Kakashi gives him a look, and wipes his thumb along Iruka’s lip. It gives him butterflies.

“Don’t,” Kakashi sighs. “I can’t stomach any more of that or I’ll throw up.”

“It was kind of dry,” Iruka offers. Kakashi tips his head and laughs gently, and it’s…cute. It’s really cute.

“Kakashi-san,” a man nods. “How was the sherry?”

“A bit dry,” Kakashi repeats, and Iruka has to hold back a snicker.

~

Nothing spectacular happens the rest of the night, besides Kakashi sneaking Iruka more wine. Some of Kakashi’s associates see Iruka leave with him, so he’s confident they’ve played a good part.

Tenzo takes them to the rich side of town, where the apartments become condos and the neighborhoods turn into gated communities.

Kakashi’s condo is in a heavily guarded compound, and Tenzo drops them off at the lobby. Kakashi doesn’t show a pass; just simply walks through the door and into the elevator. Iruka adjusts his shoulder bag, and resists the urge to comment on the interior design.

Kakashi’s condo is more of a house. He unlocks the door, and Iruka can’t believe how _open_ it feels. There are two stories, with stairs leading up one side. Windows show off the south side of town, and the interior is silver-white and greyish blues. Crystal lamps, exotic houseplants, contemporary sculptures; it's beautiful, but it doesn't feel lived in. 

“It’s so modern,” Iruka comments.

“Feel free to explore,” Kakashi waves his hand. “I need to get out of these clothes or I’m hurling myself off the balcony.”

“Well we don’t want that,” Iruka hums. Kakashi flips on some lights along the way, and Iruka sees him disappear up the stairway.

It's suddenly quiet. He sets down his bag, and peeks in towards the living-room. The couches look comfortable, and the dining room opens up into a _gorgeous_ kitchen, wow. Granite island, white barstools, a hanging pot-rack; it's like the front page of a Williams-Sonoma magazine. 

Iruka gravitates towards the stove, skimming his hands along the luxury appliances. There’s a set of dog bowls tucked by the fridge, but Iruka hasn’t heard or seen any dogs.

Curious, he peeks open the fridge, and doesn’t find much in there. It’s likely that Kakashi has groceries delivered.

Now that Iruka thinks about it…

“What’s that look for?”

Iruka turns, and Kakashi is in baggy sweats and a quarter-sleeve shirt, and it makes Iruka’s mouth go so dry, it’s like the goddamn sahara.

“Hm?”

“Is it not to your standards?” Kakashi teases.

“Oh, no no. I was just uh, thinking about…” Iruka runs his fingers along the sculpted handle on the fridge. “Um. I find it strange that we met in that grocery store. Don’t you have people to run errands for you?”

“They never get the chips right,” Kakashi complains, sliding up to the bar. “You have to squeeze the bag so you know the chips aren’t broken.”

“That’s how they break in the first place!” Iruka laughs. Kakashi eye-smiles at him, and looks back down the hall.

“You’re welcome to anything in the house. The theater is the second door on the left, and there’s a billiards table on the right. Gym is on the second floor and a lap pool on the roof. Just stay out of my office, there’s confidential stuff in there.”

“Not a problem,” Iruka says. He turns to the living-room, and Kakashi watches as he explores a little, studying the modern art hung on the wall. Kakashi’s gaze is steady, and he’s in a pleasant mood, and Iruka is hesitant to break the magic of it.

The homiest part of the condo is the massive bookshelf, and Iruka runs his hands down the spines. “Quite the collection.”

“Mmm. Recognize anything in there?”

“A few…” Iruka pets the engraving of a classic. He spots a collection of colorful covers, and he sputters when he reads the name. “Kakashi!”

“What?”

“This – this is porn!”

“They’re really good,” Kakashi nods, sauntering across the living room. He pockets his hands, and his gait is smooth, like a panther crawl. “Have you read any?”

“I – well, _no._ I mean – there was…” Iruka sighs. “I read one of the series.”

“Was it the story about the pirates?”

“I’m not going to tell you! They’re too shameless for my tastes anyways.”

“You’re looking a bit shameless right now, sensei,” Kakashi says, and the low tone of his voice makes Iruka shiver.

He looks down at himself, and sees the kimono slipped off his shoulder again. The slit has tugged up his other side, and it reaches his upper thigh.

“Oh,” Iruka breathes. He looks up, and Kakashi is _there._ Not moving, but watching intently, and Iruka is beginning to think the neutral, bored look in his eyes isn’t quite what Iruka thinks it is.

As pretty as he is, the scar on his face makes Kakashi a rugged type of handsome. Sharp and model-like, but mature, and sure of himself. And as strange as this arrangement has been, as strange as _Kakashi_ is, he’s been nothing but a gentleman, and Iruka can appreciate that.

Iruka clears his throat and slides the book back in the shelf. He turns around, and pulls the kimono back up his shoulder.

“I mean…” Iruka starts, heart hammering. He steps closer, “I’m probably supposed to make good on my end of the deal, I suppose.”

Kakashi blinks at him, startled.

“How so?”

“If I’m a sugar baby, I’m supposed to _give_ sugar, right?”

The soft, relaxed look on Kakashi’s face hardens in an instant. He stares down at him with – what is it, anger? Disgust?

“This isn’t that kind of contract,” Kakashi snaps sharply, taking a step back, and it’s like the bubble has popped around them. “Despite how dishonorable you think I am, I would never stoop to _paying_ someone for sex.”

Iruka stammers, “That’s – that’s not what I –“

“The guest room is the first door on the right,” Kakashi clips, turning on his heel. “If you need to leave, try not to go before two, because the guards will talk. Thank you.”

Iruka watches Kakashi ascend up the stairs once more, and Iruka is left at a complete loss for words.

~

He goes to sleep feeling raw and chastened.

Even if Kakashi pisses him off, there’s a part of him that would’ve enjoyed spending a night with Kakashi, contract or not. He should’ve known that there’s no way in hell Kakashi would sleep with someone so lowly and normal like _Iruka._

The whole idea is silly, now that he thinks about it. It’s a job, a _job, ding dong hello —_ and he essentially just propositioned him for sex, holy shit, what is wrong with him?

Maybe Iruka was reading the vibes wrong. He thought they were getting along a little better, and considering how much time they’d spent touching, maybe it was just natural to feel like Iruka should offer more.

Or, you know, Kakashi is an incredible actor.

Iruka swallows his pride, and accepts it for what it is. He owes Kakashi an apology.

When morning comes, Iruka wakes to rummaging in the kitchen before nine. His room is illuminated with light from the window, and Iruka stretches, pleasantly surprised at how good his back feels. Maybe he can steal one of these pillows without Kakashi noticing.

The guest room is homier than the modern design of the condo. There’s a small television, a desk, and a closet. He likes the ocean oil paintings hung on the wall.

Iruka doesn’t have anywhere to be quite yet, but it’s probably best to get out of Kakashi’s hair early. He showers quickly, and towel dries his hair. When he steps out to the kitchen, Kakashi is sitting at the barstool shirtless, still in those baggy blue sweatpants.

He’s sipping coffee at the bar, and his bedhead is a wild mess, and he looks so _human_ that it makes Iruka’s heart squeeze.

Clearing his throat, Iruka steps towards the kitchen and points to the coffee pot.

“Can I?”

Kakashi nods, “Just made it.”

It’s pin quiet as Iruka grabs a mug from the hook, and pours a cup. He finds creamer in the fridge, and hunts through the drawers for a spoon until Kakashi points wordlessly.

Iruka leans up against the counter, and he can’t help but smile, because amongst a _world_ of luxury brands, the coffee is nothing but the bulk you get at Costco.

He sips, and then dead silence.

“You’re up too early for a Saturday,” Kakashi begins, still groggy.

“I’m a teacher,” Iruka explains. “And you’re awake too.”

Kakashi shrugs a shoulder, “I have a 10 am meeting.”

Iruka hums in sympathy. Kakashi stares into his coffee, and Iruka’s stomach sinks at the walled-off look on his face.

Iruka sighs.

“Look…I’m sorry about what I said last night. I read it all wrong.”

Kakashi looks up at him, and it’s like a crack in the mask. For once, there’s a sliver of white, hot vulnerability.

“I didn’t want you to think you _owed_ me something,” Kakashi says slowly. “Especially something like – shit, I’d never expect that of you. It’s not like my investors have my condo hotwired.”

“I know that _now,_ ” Iruka pouts, and his tone makes Kakashi crack a half-smile. Iruka smiles too. “Are we cool? Because I actually like… this hasn’t been bad. For um, a job, I mean.”

Kakashi slides his head into his hand, and the movement is fluid and lazy. “Sure. You’d be pretty hard to replace right now, anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“My council is already coming up with alternative solutions to the marriage contracts,” Kakashi explains, waving his phone around like that means something. “We’re making them think, forcing some options.”

“That’s good,” Iruka sips. “Maybe their infighting will take the heat off you for a little bit.”

“Now you’re thinking,” Kakashi taps his head. He wobbles off the barstool so strangely, it’s odd to think he’s still the well-mannered businessman that speaks multiple languages and plays friendly with moguls.

“Do you mind if I raid your fridge?” Iruka asks.

“If you can make a meal out of whatever is in there, then you deserve it.”

~

Iruka receives a full schedule from Shizune on Sunday. It’s delivered in person rather than email, so it must be confidential.

There are two pub meetings and a house party. Next week is a bar, and another handful of private parties. It looks exhausting, but doable. There are suggested nights that Iruka should sleep at Kakashi’s, likely estimated off of the types of investors that will be at each party. Iruka isn’t sure how Kakashi spares the energy for it all.

Iruka supposes he’ll just have to grade papers at Kakashi’s place. It’s not the end of the world, especially when his bills are being paid. But he’s definitely going to stock up Kakashi’s fridge, that’s for sure.

~

Iruka initially thought the clothing was chosen by Kakashi’s assistant. Iruka learns that is not the case.

“Oh wow,” Shizune says, hand over her mouth. “You look _very_ stunning, Iruka-sensei.”

“Well um, you deserve the credit,” Iruka laughs, smoothing over the tux.

Shizune gives him an odd look, and corrects the jewelry around his neck.

“Me? Kakashi-sama is the one who chooses your wardrobe, not me.”

That’s definitely the bomb of the century. Kakashi is speaking with another employee in the lobby, and Iruka is almost glad for it.

“Ah,” Iruka blinks.

“He’s got a very good eye. Kakashi-sama chooses fabrics that go perfectly with your skin tone,” Shizune smiles.

Iruka catches Kakashi’s eye this time. He nods towards the valet, and Iruka nods back, twisting the new silver bands around his fingers.

“He does,” Iruka says.

The party is formal dress, but it’s also boring as hell. Iruka is used to being left alone partway through the evening so the moguls can talk business, but this is one of those _long,_ drawn out dinner parties where Kakashi is supposed to make nice and show a good face. Kakashi looks exhausted already, and the night isn’t even close to being done.

Kakashi lets out a long sigh, and Iruka pinches him, hiding the movement as he curls around Kakashi’s arm cutely.

“Straighten up,” Iruka whispers, not unlike the tone he uses with his students. “People are still watching you.”

Kakashi listens, adjusting his posture, but he tips his head to speak against Iruka’s ear. His breath smells like the gum he’s been hiding behind his tongue (nobody else has noticed, but Iruka is especially trained in spotting gum).

“People won’t leave me alone,” Kakashi whispers. “I think it’s your fault.”

“How on earth is it my fault?”

“I wasn’t so approachable before I started bringing you. I think some people say hi just so they can ogle you, sensei.”

“Stop flattering me,” Iruka scowls, and then smiles sweetly when an old heiress and her questionably young date stop to say hello.

“Kakashi-san, my boy,” she bows, extending a hand. “You look very _elegant_ this evening.”

Kakashi kisses the top of her hand, stiff and polite. “Thank you, your highness. You’re extravagant as always.”

The woman laughs, and she turns to look at Iruka, tipping her feathered hat. “And who is this fine gentleman?”

Stunned at being addressed directly, Iruka stiffens. Kakashi slides his hand to Iruka’s spine possessively, and answers for him.

“This is my darling, Iruka. You can say hello sweetheart.”

Iruka can’t blame the act when his face goes red. He bows to hide it, looking to the floor.

“It’s a pleasure, your highness.”

“Ah, youth,” the woman smiles, patting her own lad's bicep. “He is stunning, Kakashi-san. Just stunning.”

“I know.”

The woman tips her head in a polite goodbye, and turns to her next target. Iruka blinks at her attire, and mumbles aloud without thinking,

“She looks like she plucked the whole peacock.”

Kakashi sputters into a sudden and violent coughing fit. Iruka startles; he pats his back as Kakashi turns to cough into his handkerchief, and Iruka’s stomach flips when he realizes that Kakashi is _laughing._

“Oh my god,” Kakashi chokes.

“Sorry, I’m sorry –“

“That’s the princess of Monaco.”

“Please forget I said anything.”

“Am I crying? I think I’m crying.” Kakashi turns to look at him, and Iruka studies his eyes for redness. Iruka’s stomach tumbles again, because the humor in his expression is remarkably pretty.

“A little,” Iruka chews on his lip, and leans up to blow across his eyes to soothe the redness. “I am so sorry. I really wasn’t thinking.”

Kakashi’s eyelashes flutter shut, and then open when Iruka stops blowing. Kakashi smiles down at him. He reaches between them to pet down the side of Iruka’s neck with the back of his knuckles, and Iruka’s breath catches.

  
Kakashi’s eyes slide to the left in explanation; Iruka spots a group of critical stares, and makes a small _ah_ sound.

Damn, Kakashi is good at this game.

“I’ve gotten used to stomaching all my ill thoughts during these sorts of things,” Kakashi explains quietly. He worms his arm back around Iruka’s shoulders as they turn towards the live orchestra performing in the foyer. “I always want to tell Kisame that his grill doesn’t look like a shark, it looks like a garbage disposal.”

Iruka snickers a laugh into the palm of his hand.

“It’s just, I’m sorry, I know she’s a princess but it’s so hard for me to take her seriously. Her gown looks like Elton Johns’ chicken suit.”

“Stop, oh my god. Did you see her escort get a mouthful whenever she turned?”

“Yeah, but did you see the watch on his wrist? I think the feathers are better than what he’ll be eating tonight.”

Kakashi’s shoulders wrack violently. He coughs to hide his laugh, but ends up turning to smother it against Iruka’s neck. That earns them a few scowls, but Kakashi’s laugh makes Iruka giggle too.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry, we’re going to get kicked out,” Iruka whispers.

“They won’t kick us out, they’ll think I’m drunk,” Kakashi sniffs, standing back up again.“Holy shit sensei, your humor is as dirty as mine.”

Iruka can see him desperately trying to hold back a laugh, but falls into giggles anyways.

“Cute,” Iruka blurts. Kakashi stops with a blink, and Iruka blinks back stupidly.

Kakashi is in a crushed velvet suit tonight, embellished with gold chains and snaps; it’s classy, but still unique. The vest makes his waist look tailored, and god help him, some of the buttons on his shirt are begging for help.

Kakashi stares, Iruka opens his mouth, but nothing comes to his defense. He’s startled when a hand claps Kakashi on the shoulder.

“Hey kid, maybe it’s time to lay off the champagne.”

Kakashi turns stiffly, but relaxes when he sees a familiar face.

“Hey you,” Kakashi greets, shaking the man’s hand. Iruka tries to slip back into character, but Kakashi soothes him with a strong palm at the back of his neck. “Relax. Iruka, this is Shikaku, one of the good ones. His son is studying to become my successor.”

“Oh,” Iruka blinks. “It’s a pleasure.”

He’s a rough looking man, with a sharp ponytail and a well-tailored suit. He reeks of intellect, but his face is kind.

“I’ve never seen Kakashi bring a partner around here. You must be something special.”

Iruka’s stomach falls, because it’s actually far from the truth.

“I haven’t seen you in what, a year? You down to talk?”

“Sure thing, kid. Let me find my wife and we can head up to the balcony.”

“I’ll be back for you later,” Kakashi says, and Iruka offers a smile. Kakashi seems to hesitate a moment, before leaning down to brush his lips against the side of his cheek. “Watch your back.”

Iruka isn’t concerned about himself.

“Spit out your gum,” Iruka replies. Kakashi has the gall to look amused, and maybe guilty.

He squeezes Kakashi’s wrist in assurance, Kakashi steps away, and Iruka sulks off to one of the empty tables.

He’s not sure why his heart aches so suddenly. The memory of Kakashi’s laugh in his ear pulls butterflies to his stomach, and it makes everything worse. 

~

“Goodness gracious, finally,” Iruka sighs, slipping off the shoes in Kakashi’s entryway. “My feet are killing me.”

“Those are Alexander McQueens,” Kakashi says, lifting a single eyebrow.

“Yeah? Well they hurt.”

Kakashi snorts, undoing the cufflinks on his wrists, and _that_ is too much for Iruka’s exhausted brain right now.

“Hmm, glad to see you’re not spoiled.”

“I don’t know much about designer brands,” Iruka explains, fumbling for the clasp on the jewelry around his neck. “Besides, I’m just going to give it all back once our contract is up.”

Iruka’s heart lurches when fingers brush across his own. Iruka lets go in shock, and Kakashi steps behind him, working at the clasp. Iruka can smell the cologne that’s been hanging on him all night, masculine and expensive.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Kakashi drawls. It’s nice to hear that slow, lazy tone again. None of the mask that Kakashi puts up for his investors.

“Kakashi, there’s no way I can keep this stuff.”

The clasp comes undone, and Kakashi prods Iruka to turn around so he can pour the jewels in his palm. They’re heavy.

“I’ve bought them for you,” Kakashi hums. “You’ll hurt my feelings if you give them back, sensei.”

He steps back from Iruka’s personal space, and it’s so _strange_ to spend all evening touching each other, and then pull away from it like nothing happened.

Iruka swallows, and carefully slips the necklace in his pocket.

“Well…we wouldn’t want that.”

“Ah, fuck,” Kakashi stretches, and his back pops audibly. “I kinda’ want pancakes. Do you want pancakes?”

“It’s one in the morning,” Iruka deadpans.

“And?”

Touche.

“…I can make them?” Iruka offers.

“Even the mickey mouse ones?”

“I raised a six-year old. Of course I can make the mickey mouse ones.”

“I don’t know if we have – oh. I guess we do have eggs. Did you do this?”

“I went shopping, sorry. Your fridge was as barren as Issacs’s wife.”

Kakashi tips his head back and laughs. It’s short and abrupt, and he stands out of the way as Iruka putters into the kitchen.

Kakashi scratches his hair, “Yeah, my bad.”

“Ew, don’t do that in the kitchen, that’s gross,” Iruka shoos him. Kakashi gives him an amused look, but contently slides to the barstool.

They’re both half-undressed, jackets thrown over the couches and their top buttons undone. Only the kitchen lights are on, and Kakashi drops his head into his hand as Iruka flips pancakes on a three-thousand dollar stove.

“I really think you should give it another chance.”

“I’m not going to read your smutty books.”

“You’re missing out, sensei. The plot is really good.”

“The plot of some woman being ravaged on a pirate ship? I don’t think so.”

“So you _did_ read the pirate one!”

“I’m gay,” Iruka explains, sliding a plate towards Kakashi. “I’m not really interested in…whatever it is Princess Blondie can do with her tits.”

“There are gay editions of Icha Icha,” Kakashi offers, stopping Iruka mid turn. Kakashi cuts the pancake with the side of his fork and hums as he chews. “S’ good.”

“I’m still going to have to say no.”

“I’ll convert you one day, sensei.”

“Does everyone know you’re a closet pervert?” 

Kakashi grins, wolfish and juvenile, “Maa sensei, I haven’t been in the closet for years.”

Iruka can’t stifle his laugh. It echoes around the kitchen, and he muffles the rest of it into his arm.

~

Due to scheduling, it’s been easier to spend the weekends at Kakashi’s. It’s not worth going home every morning if Iruka is going to be back again that evening.

Iruka keeps mostly out of Kakashi’s way. He lugged his school bag up the elevator and now does lesson plans on the enormous L-couch while Naruto rambles in his ear. 

_“And then, Kiba tried to convince coach to let him play with a broken arm, and I’d never seen coach so mad, Iruka. You could see the bone and everything!”_

“Good lord,” Iruka shakes his head. His toes are stretched out on one of Kakashi’s cushy blankets, and he’s about halfway through his graded stack of papers. “Was he okay?”

_“Eh he’s fine, it’s just Kiba. You know he’s already got three strikes on housing because he keeps sneaking in Akamaru?”_

“I thought he was going to get Akamaru certified as a service dog?”

_“A service dog for what? Being too sober?”_

“Naruto…” Iruka chides, but hides his own laugh. There’s a loud clatter from upstairs, and Iruka pauses in surprise.

_“Anyway, we all had to take Kiba to the hospital because once the shock wore off he was a big ole baby about it.”_

“Maybe that’s a reason to get…” Iruka pauses again, when there’s a second bang. “You know, I think I need to go. Call me after your presentation on Monday, okay?”

_“Hm? Okay, sure. Then you’re going to tell me all about your new job!”_

“Mmm, okay,” Iruka swallows. “I love you.”

_“Love you too.”_

Iruka hangs up, and listens in as he hears a muffled shout. Heart beating, Iruka sets aside his papers and slides off the couch. He drifts up the stairs, peeking around the corner as the shouting gets louder.

_“Ha!! You won’t get me that easily!”_

_“Square up, I’m not done yet.”_

Does Kakashi have company? Iruka didn’t hear anyone enter this morning. He looks into the mouth of the gym, and is met with a wild uproar.

Iruka hasn’t visited gym yet, and he’s surprised by the sheer size of it. There is a dojo in the middle, and weight equipment behind a glass annex.

It appears that Kakashi _does_ have company, and it’s in the form of a six-foot something, very broad and tanned shirtless man. His hair is cut bluntly, and he’s fist-fighting Kakashi with a refined type of martial art.

Kakashi is in his typical sweats and baseball tee, but the neckline is soaked and his pants are rolled to his knees. What’s especially stunning is how _fast_ they are.

They throw jabs almost to a rhythm. Kakashi is quick on his feet, but his guest is as well, using combinations of kicks and well-placed hits to throw Kakashi off his guard. His sparring partner is so large, Iruka is shocked to see Kakashi keeping pace with him. The firm muscles in Kakashi’s arms really show, and this would probably explain the hidden strength Kakashi has.

There’s a shout, and Kakashi hits the mat hard. Iruka winces, but gapes as Kakashi uses his thighs to wrap around the man’s neck and flip him right on the mat. He squeezes tight, and his partner goes red in the face.

“I tap, I tap!” the man laughs, and Kakashi smiles as he lets go.

“You really winded me for a second,” Kakashi exhales, lying flat on his back.

“And you still got me with that grab. I expect nothing less from my hip and cool rival!”

Kakashi fwaps his hand against the man’s chest, and Iruka is…pleasantly surprised at the casualness of it. He’s used to seeing people bow, suck up and tut around Kakashi like he’s something to impress – but this is genuine; another crack in the mask.

“Kakashi! You did not tell me you had company!” The man shouts, and Iruka jolts, feeling guilty for spying. 

Kakashi rolls, and looks at Iruka upside down from the floor. His eyes squint in a greeting.

“Oh. Hello.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Iruka bows. “I was just curious about the noise.”

“Come in! Come in! You must be Iruka-sensei!” The taller man jumps to his feet and extends a hand, and Iruka shakes it. His grip is _strong._ “I am Might Gai, Kakashi’s eternal rival!”

Iruka smiles, charmed. “Is that so?”

Kakashi sighs from the floor. “Childhood friend. Can’t seem to shake ‘em.”

“My rival is also a comedian.”

“Like a dog,” Kakashi continues, “The kind of needy stray you can’t get off your porch.”

“What was all that about?” Iruka asks Gai. It looks like there’s a fist-sized hole punched in the wall, and one of the lamps is hanging sideways. 

“We have studied martial arts together since we were young,” Gai explains, taking a seat on the bench. “Our hot-blooded challenges keep us young! Our current score is 49 to 50 in Kakashi’s favor.”

“Don’t forget the hotdog eating contest.”

“You are right, haha! 49 to 51. I am slacking!”

Kakashi’s eyes fly open at that.

“ _Fuck._ I have a meeting at 11.”

Iruka looks at the clock on the wall, “Its 10:45.”

“I gotta’ go shower or Shizune will have my ass.”

“Um…should I leave?” Iruka asks.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Kakashi scrambles to stand up, and gets a foot out the doorway. “I’ll be back by three for the dinner.”

“I’ll be here,” Iruka says. Kakashi’s hardened expression softens a little, and then is gone as he dips down the hallway. He can hear the quick _thump thump thump_ of Kakashi pacing down the stairs, and then vaulting the railing over the last two.

“That man,” Gai shakes his head. “If I had known about his appointment I wouldn’t have overstayed my welcome.”

“I’m sure he didn’t know either,” Iruka smiles.

Gai finishes off his water, and grins at him. “I am pleased to finally meet you, Iruka-sensei. Kakashi talks a lot about you.”

Iruka’s heart sputters.

“Oh?”

“Yes! It has been a very long time since I have seen Kakashi so relaxed around a partner. He is very fond of you.”

Iruka pets across his scar, and blinks down at the floor. Somehow, it’s what he wants to hear, even if he knows it’s not true.

“I haven’t known him long but Kakashi is…strange.” Iruka softens, “I like it.”

“My rival has always been hip and cool,” Gai beams.

Iruka looks to him, and settles down next to Gai on the bench. He folds his hands together, and fumbles the words around in his mouth before asking,

“What is…or rather, what was Kakashi like growing up?”

The fantastic smile on Gai’s face smoothes into fondness. He spins the cap on his water bottle and hums.

“Suave. Spunky. _Very_ intelligent, he was named a genius by age four.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Very seriously! I was always struggling to keep up academically, I will admit. We both began taking defense classes in elementary school.”

“Why?” Iruka prods.

Gai’s face turns serious, and it puts Iruka on edge immediately. Gai doesn’t have the kind of face that should look so serious.

“There is much I cannot tell you… but Kakashi…has come a long way. I know it is easy to see all this –“ Gai gestures, “— and think of him as something other than human, but Kakashi is no different than you and me. He’s had to overcome very difficult things. He may act robotic, but he is anything but.”

Iruka nods solemnly. He can feel his own traumas like a frog in his throat.

“Um. I’ve seen it. Sometimes he is unbearably cold but…sometimes he’s different.”

“I’m relieved,” Gai says, and the heavy exhale shows that he means it. “I worry about Kakashi, even if he does not want me to. I think you will be the one to enter his heart, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka flushes all the way to his toes.

_“Me?”_

Gai’s laughter is loud and booming, and Iruka grunts as a strong hand slaps him on the back.

“I think you already have! Now, please allow me to make you one of my all-natural, world famous protein shakes!”

“That was my fault,” Kakashi says later, when Iruka is still brushing his tongue for the eighth time. “I should’ve warned you.”

Iruka flips him off, and spits in the sink.

~

Iruka’s whole body hurts from the night’s party. Someone had thought it a good idea to do bodyshots off the candies, and Kakashi was _not_ happy to find someone urging Iruka onto a table and pouring liquor in his collarbones.

It was more eccentric and college-like than Iruka would prefer, but Kakashi made allies with some young lord from back East, so it wasn’t a complete loss.

Still, Iruka scrubbed himself twice before he felt clean. There was something particularly _nasty_ about the way other influencers were eying him, even if it wasn’t the most risqué outfit Kakashi has dressed him in.

Iruka can see light streaming in from under his guest room door. It flashes, and as Iruka waits, he can hear the quiet mumbling of a T.V.

Sleep has betrayed him so far, so Iruka sighs and sways himself out of bed, pajamas and all.

He finds Kakashi at the couch, typing away into a laptop. He’s propped it under a pillow, and a cheesy romance movie is playing low on the big screen.

“You should be sleeping,” Iruka says softly.

Kakashi startles. He jerks to look over his shoulder, “Oh shit, did I wake you up? I’m sorry, sensei.”

The apology makes him smile. Iruka waves him off and comes around to sit on the other end of the L couch.

“I was already awake. And you don’t have to keep calling me that, you know.”

Kakashi hums.

“But I like to.”

Iruka chews on his cheek, and then asks, “What are you working on?”

“Proposal. Something I’m actually excited about for once,” Kakashi mumbles. Iruka hugs one of the overly big pillows and nods sleepily.

“What for?”

“Charity work. Boring stuff.”

“I don’t think it’s boring,” says Iruka. Kakashi looks back up, and there are circles under his eyes, and his hair is mussed from touching it too much, and Kakashi is still stupidly attractive.

He shrugs, “Meh. Tax write offs.”

“You don’t really think that.”

“No,” Kakashi agrees, his lie caught easy. “But I always feel like I’m pretending to be a good person when I make donations like this. I keep my name off the plaques but people still make such a big deal out of it.”

“If it’s what you’re passionate about, then I think that’s admirable,” Iruka says, secretly charmed.

Kakashi eyes him, and Iruka scooches closer to look at his screen. Kakashi tenses, and then relaxes as Iruka props his chin on his pillow.

“It’s the zoning for a new hospital. My investors are going to throw a bitchfit when they see the price tag.”

“Then they’re the bad people, not you.”

“They lost their patience with me a long time ago,” Kakashi sighs. “It’s kind of why you’re in this mess.”

Iruka hums, and watches Kakashi copy and paste numbers from an excel sheet.

“Why do you say so?”

Kakashi doesn’t answer. Iruka sees him drum absently against the keyboard. Sniffling, Iruka shifts his legs and pulls the abandoned blanket up to his elbows.

“You know, I tried to do research on your company. So much of it is private, sometimes I’m not even sure what you do anymore.”

A heavy sigh.

Kakashi tips his head back and looks up at the ceiling. He blinks once, gaze even, before he turns his head to look at Iruka. It feels intimate, like they need to whisper.

“Hateco is old money,” Kakashi says. “It’s why it’s not a household name. We started in the oil business, and then dipped our hands into every industry as technology evolved.”

“Oh,” Iruka blinks.

“The reason we had to sell stock was…” Kakashi frowns, “…it was because of me. I didn’t want to be in oil anymore, I wanted to chase technology. Surprise, my advisers thought I was completely high. First my –“ Kakashi chokes, and then swallows. He steadies himself, eyes drawing crueler, more distant. “First my dad passes and then. Then some kid comes along and trashes everything the family name has built up from the ground.”

“But that’s not true!” Iruka argues. “Hateco is extremely successful.”

“Yeah, because I was right,” Kakashi grins, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “We didn’t need the oil money; my higher-ups just wanted the bigger paychecks for it. I moved us to clean energy and my stocks dropped like your fucking balls.”

Iruka's chest clenches. 

“Ah. I see.”

Kakashi sighs, and runs his fingers through the silvery strands of his hair.

“Do my advisors have any real sovereignty over me? No. But I’m still trying to make nice and fix my mistakes.”

“That wasn’t a mistake,” Iruka frowns. “And they still have no right to say who you should marry. If they don’t like the face of a successful business, then they can go lose money in some other company. There will always be smarter investors out there.”

Kakashi breaks out in a toothless smile. His hand rises, and Iruka goes dead still as Kakashi takes a loose strand from his bun, and curls it behind his ear. The air feels tight, stretched and too thick to breathe.

“You make me feel human,” Kakashi says.

Iruka’s breath catches. He’s not sure how long for. Kakashi turns back towards his laptop, and Iruka’s heart is left hammering against the bars of his chest like a church bell.

Iruka hates it. He _hates_ how he reacts so easily, like putty in Kakashi’s hands. He doesn’t want to think about what it means. He’s not sure when Kakashi stopped making Iruka so angry, when his weird ticks and frigid demeanor stopped being so annoying. When he started making Iruka _laugh._

“Go back to sleep,” Kakashi tells him. “You teach tomorrow, don’t you?”

Yes, but Iruka doesn’t want to go back to that single bed, all alone in that quiet guest room. He knows it’s nonsensical, but Iruka decides to slide down the length of the couch and lay there, and when the blanket slips off him in his sleep, it’s magically tucked around his shoulders come morning.

~

“So, when am I going to meet the mystery man?” Anko wiggles her eyebrows, poking Iruka in the arm with a single chopstick.

“Soon,” Iruka lies. “I have to make sure he won’t run away first before he meets you.”

Anko wobbles back on the chair legs and laughs, and Iruka silently curses himself to hell.

“Iruka-sensei!” A child cries, sliding into the doorway. “Iruka-sensei! Konohamaru pushed me off the swing!”

“I didn’t! Sensei, she _asked_ me to push her higher!”

Anko rolls her eyes, but Iruka smiles, sliding his chair around his desk to open his arms.

“I’m sure it was an accident, right Konohamaru?”

“Y-Yeah!”

“Come here darling,” Iruka gestures, and Moegi approaches with tears in her eyes. Iruka checks her arms and her elbows, and places a magic band-aid against the scratches on her palms. Konohamaru hovers nervously in the doorway. Iruka pinches Moegi’s pudgy cheek, “Are you going to live?”

She sniffles, “Yes sensei.”

“Very good. Konohamaru, is there anything you want to say?”

“I…I’m sorry.”

“Go on,” Iruka shoos. “There’s ten minutes left of recess.”

Moegi dries her tears and Konohamaru leads her to the yard by the hand, and Iruka stifles a yawn, reaching back for his lunch.

“You’re too much,” Anko shakes her head. “The kids know better than to bother me with crap like that.”

“They’re first graders,” Iruka defends, slurping his noodles. “Every negative experience is the _worst_ experience of their little life. I certainly wouldn’t ask to be six again.”

“Pfft. Maybe I would. Then I could play with my etch-a-sketch and not worry about bills.”

Iruka gives a guilty laugh, and swirls his chopsticks nervously in his noodles.

~

The gifts are changing.

What used to be essentials are becoming more extravagant. Iruka never really felt the need to use Kakashi’s Magic Supercard for anything other than groceries and gas, so when more items start appearing at his doorstep, Iruka is startled.

It’s usually a set of clothing. Iruka is never to wear the same outfit twice, which is kind of a shame, but he’s begun to look forward to whatever items Kakashi has picked out for him.

But the boxes are getting fuller.

Kakashi must’ve seen his ratty shoulder bag, because a fine suede bag is nestled in a new set of clothes. The next week is a pair of designer sunglasses. Iruka is stunned to find a jewelry box of opal hairpins, and the biggest surprise is a set of _real_ diamond cufflinks.

“Now don’t you play games with me,” Iruka tells him, ear up against the phone as he studies the cufflinks in the light. “I really can’t accept these.”

Kakashi had given his personal number to Iruka recently. Apparently it’s a big deal.

_“Mmm, but sensei, I picked them out just for you. Nobody else could pull them off, sweetheart.”_

“You’re a shit,” Iruka sighs, but the petname still rolls down his spine like a feather.

They do look nice, Iruka supposes. Very nice, _too_ nice, but it curls his stomach to know he’ll be parading around such an expensive gift. To know that people will be looking at _him_ with envy.

“I need a safe for all this jewelry,” Iruka frowns, mostly to himself. “I don’t exactly live in a great part of town.”

“ _I’ll handle it,”_ Kakashi says, and Iruka begins to think of the expense and shouts _NO!_ – but it’s too late, Kakashi has hung up already.

“God damn it,” Iruka sighs. He sleeps with the cufflinks under his pillow.

~

A vase for his new plant. A years’ supply of tissues for the classroom. A new vacuum to replace the old shark that exploded in his face.

Gifts keep coming, not all luxurious, and Iruka goes warm from it because he didn’t think Kakashi _listened._

But Iruka rambles between parties, and he now knows that Kakashi gives him his full attention, even when he’s nose first in his phone or a book or an entirely different conversation.

They’re into the second month already. Iruka will deny it, but the approaching end of the contract makes his stomach sick.

The gifts are nice, the bills are convenient, but is it still about the money?

~

It’s poker night again, but this club is different.

Iruka’s outfit isn’t a suit or a kimono or even that damn dress Kakashi made him wear —

They’re black designer jeans, torn around the knees and tight as hell. Iruka has to sit on the floor just to get the damn thing on. Not to mention the harness Kakashi straps him in, tight in a cropped fishnet shirt and studded leather cuffs. Iruka has to practice walking around the apartment in the platform shoes, and only his bangs are pulled back in a tiny bun.

The first thing Kakashi does is look him up and down, blink long and hard, and say, “You look like sin incarnate.”

Iruka prides himself on not blushing. “Is that a good thing?”

“For where we’re going, yes.”

Kakashi looks…ugh, really freaking good in jeans and a leather jacket. The jacket is so studded and embellished that Iruka wouldn’t be surprised if it had a higher retail value than his car. He’s wearing a fabric mask again, and there are heavy studs in his ears.

“This is a kink bar, isn’t it?”

“You get a gold star,” Kakashi teases, and then mocks injury when Iruka elbows him.

The vibe is completely different. There are still poker tables, still men and women with candies, still music and drinks – but these are not moguls, Iruka realizes. 

If the tattoos weren’t already a sign, the collection of knives stabbed into the poker table would tip Iruka off.

This _is_ the mob.

Iruka has to fight every muscle in his body to avoid tensing up. _Why_ are they meeting the mob? What does Kakashi have to do with a crowd like this?

People of all genders are doing questionable things on the floor, as well as naked strippers on poles and loud club music. The whole room smells like cigars and sex, and Iruka would think they were back in his college gay bar, if it weren’t for the _sheer amount_ of expensive jewelry the mobsters are wearing. There’s probably enough money in this room to buy a country.

Kakashi dips his hand into Iruka’s lower back, and drags his fingers up his spine; it’s a sign Iruka has learned to read as _relax._ So he does his best.

“Eyyy, Kakashi.” A man greets him, clapping Kakashi’s hand. “It’s been months, man.”

“I heard someone wanted to talk business.”

“Yeah. We’ve got dirt from down south. You mind if we meet before the game?”

“Not at all,” Kakashi nods. He turns to Iruka, and grabs him by the chin. Iruka hums and closes his eyes, and Kakashi’s mask rubs against his cheek as he speaks loud enough for his company to hear. “I’ll be back soon. Go have a drink and get nice and loose for me, okay baby?”

“Yes sir,” Iruka purrs, but yips like a dog when Kakashi decides to press a kiss against the side of his neck. Iruka’s stomach flips, and Kakashi pulls back with a strange expression.

Kakashi disappears down a stairway, and Iruka presses his hand against his neck.

~

Myra and Hisa aren’t here, so it’s kind of a bore. Iruka has learned the hard way that most candies are very cliquish, and Iruka plays nice, but he won’t go out of his way if he doesn’t have to.

Kisame has new arm candy, and Iruka would be relieved, if the blonde little twink wasn’t glaring daggers the entire time. Iruka smiles kindly and waves, and the candy scowls and turns back to Kisame’s side. Whatever.

Iruka nurses a martini at the bar, and catches the tail-end of a conversation behind him.

“You see Hatake’s new piece?”

“Yeah, didn’t know he swung that way.”

“He looks too innocent to me. You really think he’s fucking around with Hatake?”

Iruka sips his drink, heart thumping.

“What, you don’t?”

“Nahh. I caught word that Hatake is trying to get some investors off his back.”

“No shit?”

Iruka freezes up. Eyes going wide, he stares into the blue of his drink and swallows down the sudden rush of panic.

“Yeah brother. Bet you he’s a beard.”

“A beard for a gay man? Bro you dumb as fuck.”

 _Shit,_ Iruka thinks. _Shit shit shit._

If this is the central station of gossip, it’s no surprise that they’d be suspicious.

They’ve been working on this cover for too long. Iruka simply won’t allow this. He slams back his drink, and stirs a plan. For once, they are in _Iruka’s_ territory.

Kakashi returns, and Iruka slides off the barstool and winds his arms around his waist like it’s all he’s wanted.

“Let me see you,” Kakashi purrs, and Iruka tips up his face. Kakashi pets across his forehead, and hums approvingly when he finds his face warm.

“Let’s deal you in, Hatake,” the mobster gestures, and Kakashi nods, taking his seat and a drink from the waitress. Iruka stands behind Kakashi like usual, hands at his chest and chin on the crown of his head.

A man with traditional Japanese tattoos has two girls in leather bikinis. Another is playing poker around a woman in a gimp suit, straddled in his lap.

The music isn’t so loud over here, but it still trembles the glasses. Iruka feels it in his chest, the low roll of the bass thrumming through him. It mimics his heartbeat, a heavy and repetitive _thumping._

Kakashi keeps a stern face at the table. Iruka doesn’t bother peeking at his hand, because it’s not his concern. He can feel eyes on him, and Iruka isn’t going to let this opportunity pass. He nuzzles into Kakashi’s hair, waits minutes in-between before running his palms back up Kakashi’s chest, feeling firm muscle beneath his t-shirt.

Iruka wouldn’t say he’s a master yet, but he’s learning Kakashi’s body language. He doesn’t stiffen, doesn’t tense, but he tips his head just a little, and Iruka presses his face into the back of his neck.

Kakashi picks up on his vibe, because a hand reaches back to tug on the ring of his collar, choking Iruka just enough to look good.

“You still smoke?” A yakuza offers a pack of Marlboro reds.

“Sure,” Kakashi says, and takes one. Kakashi slides the mask to his chin, a candy flips a lighter for him, and Iruka doesn’t like that, so he kneads his fingers into Kakashi’s shoulders as he glares. A few men snicker. Chips are thrown in.

Iruka presses his lips to Kakashi’s cheek, open mouthed and wet, and Kakashi’s only tell is the deep inhale. Smoke puffs out, and Kakashi throws in two reds.

Iruka kisses dangerously close to where his cigarette rests, nosing into his jaw to silently communicate what he’s after.

“Please,” he whispers, and Kakashi’s eye slides towards him like a predator.

Kakashi is good. He places his cards face down and raises his bet, just as a lady folds.

“Don’t distract me, baby,” Kakashi puffs.

Iruka sighs with restlessness, rubbing his cheek to Kakashi’s once more. Kakashi pulls the cigarette away from his lips, and Iruka whines beneath his breath, just enough to be picked up by the table.

“ _Please, daddy.”_

Iruka sees just enough. Kakashi’s pupils dilate, the two gossiping men from earlier lean over to whisper to each other, and Kakashi brings the cigarette to his mouth with a barely trembling hand.

Iruka hasn’t smoked since middle school, and reds are _rough_ on his throat, but Iruka is able to put up a good front. (Hey, don’t judge. Iruka might be a teacher now, but he wasn’t always so squeaky clean).

Iruka pulls twice, and then ghosts the smoke over his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he purrs. Kakashi glares at him, and spreads his knees under the table. His voice is grainy and dirt rough.

“Come sit and be good.”

“Yes sir,” says Iruka, and the woman at the table fans her face with a brochure and smiles.

“I could train him up good for you,” she winks.

“No thanks,” Kakashi smiles politely, arm coming around Iruka’s waist. “I’m a possessive type.” 

~

Kakashi yanks him up by the beltloop as soon as the game ends.

“You’re a cheat, Kakashi,” Pain says good naturedly. 

“Maa, I thought you had me.”

“No you didn’t,” Pain chuffs, and Kakashi grips Iruka tight by the hip.

“I’m showing him the balcony.”

Pain smirks, and jerks his head towards the stairs. “Take what you want.”

There’s snickering behind him, and Iruka’s heart does summersaults, because they’ve definitely never done _this_ before.

Kakashi pulls him with urgency, so Iruka fumbles to keep up. It’s a struggle in these shoes, and Kakashi ends up catching him before he trips over the last step.

“Wh- what’s wrong?” Iruka whispers, but Kakashi just yanks him by the wrist and keeps walking. Face red, Iruka begins to wonder if he pushed it a little too far. 

They pass a hall of privacy rooms, before Kakashi pulls him to the last door and shoves him through. Iruka bristles at the manhandling, and bursts as soon as the door shuts.

“Dammit, Kakashi! Are you going to tell me what’s going – _oh,_ ” Iruka hiccups, and his head hits the wall, and Kakashi’s face is in his neck like a wild animal. His breathing is heavy, and the touch _burns,_ and Iruka’s stomach plummets through the floor. “K-Kakashi?”

Kakashi’s voice is a rasp, hands coming up to clench at his waist.

“If you don’t want me to touch you, say so right now.”

Iruka couldn’t say it even if he wanted to, because all the air sucks right out of him. His hands clasp into Kakashi’s shoulders, head spinning in circles.

“You’re – you’re just wound up,” Iruka manages, lessening his grip in what he hopes is comforting. “We can just take a minute and –“

“You’re fucking _killing me,_ ” Kakashi groans, and it sounds so _needy._ There’s strain in his voice, jagged and rough, “I’ve been dreaming about tearing these clothes off you ever since you put them on.”

Iruka shivers. Kakashi rises to meet his eye, and it’s just as wild as Iruka feels.

He’s hot. He’s really hot.

“Then do it,” Iruka edges, and then Kakashi is on him like a wildfire.

They kiss sudden and fast. Iruka moans like he’s fucking seventeen, but he can’t help it, the sound is just ripped out of him. Kakashi’s mouth is slick and hot and damn is it clever. Forward and back, Kakashi’s right hand cups the back of his neck, and Iruka meets his tongue in the middle.

It rolls down his spine, ticklish like all the wild fluttering in his stomach. Iruka needs _everything –_ his hands, shit, the sharp teeth at his tongue and the way Kakashi just growls into his mouth, it’s too much.

“Fuck you can _kiss,_ ” Kakashi cries, and is crashing into him again. Hands run up and down his ribs, thumbs at his hips and back up again, like Kakashi can’t stop touching him. Iruka curls around him, hitches a leg by his hip and keens when Kakashi catches it.

Their lips slip, and Iruka uses the moment to breathe.

“Oh my god,” Iruka pants. “You’re not drunk are you?”

“Fuck no,” Kakashi growls, and bites into his ear. Iruka shivers like he’s just been electrocuted. Kakashi’s lips move against his neck, “You are _so_ sexy. It’s a crime, a goddamn crime, sensei.”

“I’ve wanted you since the stupid wine tasting,” Iruka admits.

Kakashi groans, forehead dropping to his shoulder, and the strong hand on his thigh squeezes tight.

“I’m a moron.”

“Kiss me again,” Iruka begs, and Kakashi meets him for it. It’s strong, a heavy back and forth; Iruka forgets where he is, _who_ he is. Kakashi’s silver hair is course beneath his fingers, and Iruka thinks of a hundred different reasons to tug on it.

“ _This –_ ” Kakashi sucks on his jaw,“—is for that stunt with the cig.”

Iruka can’t help it; he snickers a little, and then gasps as Kakashi drops to a knee. His hands are everywhere, and his nose drags up the inseam of Iruka’s jeans, and it’s downright _sinful._

“Shit! Kakashi, here?”

“No? Yes? I just –“ Kakashi breathes into his thigh like a starved animal, and Iruka has never been so turned on in his life. “Your fucking legs, baby. I’ve been hard the entire night.”

Iruka smothers a laugh, and then a moan as Kakashi props his foot up on his thigh, and bites at his leg through the fabric of his jeans.

“Wh-wait, really?”

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi says, undoing Iruka’s buckle and dragging down his zipper in one motion. “I’m really – god, I tried to be good with you, I really did.”

Through all the haze, Iruka thinks back to that moment in Kakashi’s living room.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” Iruka breathes. “I felt so stupid. I thought – people like you don’t – _ah,_ ” Iruka shudders as Kakashi noses his erection through the fabric of his boxers.

It’s a balancing act with his foot propped up on Kakashi’s thigh like this, but Kakashi holds him steady, and his eyes are like a blaze of fury.

“You’ve been tempting me like the devil, Iruka. On what planet would I not be attracted to you? I just didn’t –“ Kakashi groans, rubbing against Iruka’s cock like a bitch in heat. “Don’t let me take advantage of you.”

It just bubbles out of him. He’s so stupidly hard and Kakashi looks like a sinner on his knees and his grip is so _tight_ and Iruka can still taste him in his mouth –

“Please daddy,” Iruka exhales. Kakashi plants himself into Iruka’s hip-flexor and _moans._

A rapping on the door makes them both jump.

“Yo Kakashi, times up. I got a renter.”

Kakashi squeezes his eyes shut, and Iruka muffles a laugh into his hand, but it sounds like a sob.

“I’ll just buy the whole club,” Kakashi whispers. “Solve all our problems.”

The rush of adrenaline has done good to clear Iruka’s head. He tips Kakashi’s jaw with a finger beneath his chin.

“We should go.”

Kakashi groans into his bare stomach, and then calls to the door, “Alright, give me a sec, Bee.”

“Don’t make me count down from five –“

“A sec, Bee!”

~

Iruka is respectfully dropped off at his apartment. He carefully unbuckles all the straps, scrubs himself clean in the shower, crawls in bed, and screams into his pillow.

He can still feel Kakashi’s hands on his thighs. His mouth tingles.

Iruka is _fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖) heh heh


	3. Chapter 3

“Woah there, cowboy,” Izumo pats Iruka by the back. “Rough day at the office?”

“Don’t,” Iruka sighs, slamming back a shot. “Just don’t.”

“Did the kids put gum in your hair again?”

 _No,_ Iruka thinks. _I might’ve just screwed myself again._

“Hey, just being around kids all day is enough reason to drink,” Anko says.

Kotetsu raises an eyebrow, “And…why did you choose to become a teacher again?”

“They make it sound so nice in the brochures,” Anko scowls. “Nobody warns you about the budget cuts and the spitwads.”

“This guy should’ve been enough warning,” Izumo jostles Iruka again, making Iruka crack a smile. “Didn’t you two grow up together?”

“You know, we shared custody on some of those pranks,” Iruka defends.

“Not the slime balloons. That was your own devious little mind.”

Kotetsu laughs, “Hold on, nobody told me about this.”

The bartender gives them another round, and they slam the shots back and tap the table with the empty glasses. It feels good to be back in a nice, laid back, _normal_ bar again.

“Iruka had a crush on a guy in seventh grade,” Anko explains, like the alcohol isn’t currently burning their lungs alive. “So naturally, his solution was the annoy the shit out of him.”

“I didn’t – okay,” Iruka laughs. “I didn’t realize it was a crush.”

“You were practically pulling his pigtails.”

“Awww, you mellowed out so much, Iruka-sensei,” Kotetsu teases, pinching his cheek, and Iruka punches him in the side.

“ _Ow!_ That was my kidney! It’s going through enough right now as it is!”

“You know he’s got a new man, right?” Anko asks, and Iruka’s stomach flips all over again.

“Excuse me? When were you going to tell us this?”

“It’s – come on, don’t look at me like that,” Iruka sighs. He runs a hand through the loose strands of his hair and looks away, “It’s too new right now.”

Kakashi on his knees, face pressed in his thigh, teeth sharp enough to bite through denim; skinny jeans, leather jacket, Iruka has been hot over it all weekend.

The way Kakashi looked at him… it made Iruka feel _wanted._

He has a feeling Kakashi is going to go the _lets just pretend this never happened_ route, and Iruka is going to have to suck it up again.

“Fine,” Izumo sighs. “He treats you good, right?”

Iruka smiles a little too fondly.

“He makes me laugh.”

“Ugh, Christ. You’re one of _those._ ”

“Hey – what’s that supposed to mean?!”

~

They’re given a break this week. Kakashi has some conflicts in his schedule, or so it has been explained to him. Iruka isn’t sure how much of that is true or not.

The break is nice anyways, and it gives Iruka a chance to sit down and do some grading, instead of the scheduled mental breakdown in the shower. Well, that was the plan at least.

Iruka sits down to grade, and then realizes that his bag is not _here,_ it’s at Kakashi’s condo, tucked next to the guest room bed.

Iruka rubs at his temples and curses his existence.

So like any good teacher, Iruka packs his ass up and drives all the way to downtown. He’s nervous about passing security, but they don’t even stop his car. He parks in the lot and is allowed up to Kakashi’s front door.

Iruka didn’t text him first, because he actually uh, has the code to his keypad. There’s a fat chance that Kakashi will be home, but Iruka knocks first just in case.

He is shocked to hear immediate barking.

Stunned, Iruka stands there as Kakashi opens the door.

He’s in grey sweats and a baggy sweater, and his typically bored expression widens to surprise when he realizes who it is.

“Sensei?”

“Dogs!!!” Iruka gasps, and then falls to his knees. There’s a whole pack of them; big and small and fluffy. A giant Pitbull licks at his face, and Iruka giggles, squirming away and petting behind it’s ears.

“Wh…what are you doing here?”

“I um –“ Iruka squirms again, laughing as a dog jumps at his back. “I left my kids’ papers here.”

Kakashi gives him a strange look, before it softens into fondness.

“Shame on you, sensei.”

“I know, I’m so sorry.”

“I could’ve just sent Tenzo to drop it off for you.”

“I felt bad…it was my fault I forgot it.”

Another dog licks his ear, Iruka squeals, and Kakashi slaps his thigh.

“Heel,” he says, and all eight dogs scramble to his side like magic. Iruka gapes, and lets Kakashi help him to his feet. Iruka has to fight the urge to yank him in by the arm and kiss him again.

“I had no idea you had dogs. I mean I saw the bowls, but…”

“They’re a lot, so… when I know you’re coming, they usually stay with Tenzo, or one of my buddies, who lives on an acre.” 

“I love dogs,” Iruka says, amazed at how well trained they are. One tail fwaps against the floor, Kakashi eyes the puppy, and the dog goes rod straight again. Kakashi pats her head and nods to the kitchen.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Iruka stands next to the sink, wiping down his face with a wet paper towel as Kakashi approaches with his shoulder bag, setting it on the barstool.

“Thanks…” Iruka mumbles.

Kakashi nods. The air is tense, and Iruka has no control over how quickly his heart is beating. He’s spent many nights here, but he suddenly feels like a stranger again. The tap drips, and sun filters in from the skyline windows.

“I should go –“ Iruka starts, but Kakashi blocks him.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted last week,” Kakashi blurts. He bows his head, “It was beyond unprofessional.”

 _Unprofessional?!_ Of all the shit they’ve done –

“Knock that off,” Iruka barks, now pissed. “Did you not hear a thing I said? I wanted you to touch me.” Begged, even. They didn’t even _get_ anywhere, but the experience was still enough to drive Iruka wild.

Kakashi looks at him, and it’s vulnerable again.

“I don’t want it to be like – like all those other candies that grin and bear the sex just so they can get their check.”

“Do you really think I’m the kind of person to do something I don’t want to do?” Iruka bravely steps closer, like approaching a wild animal. He’s careful at where he places his hands, gentle outside Kakashi’s slender hips. “I already have your money, Kakashi.”

Kakashi shivers, like Iruka just said something dirty.

There are those hands again, large and sturdy at his back. Iruka curls into him.

“I guess it’ll be a pretty good cover, right?” Kakashi teases, and the words break Iruka’s heart only a little. He knows this is impossible, knows it shouldn’t happen, but he tips his head up and says anyways, 

“Yeah. They’ll be off your back for years once your advisers see what I’m about to do to you.”

Kakashi chuckles darkly, and their lips meet together, standing against the island of his kitchen.

It’s like a renewed spark, and Iruka’s common sense goes straight out the window. He curls his hand into Kakashi’s hair, presses close so their hips bump, and Kakashi hums contently into the kiss. He smells so good, soo good — the lack of cologne is almost better. It’s all musty and masculine and real.

It’s too good to be true. But goddamn, if Iruka won’t take what he can before Kakashi comes to his senses.

Sure, it’s been a while since Iruka’s gotten some – but of all his partners, he can’t seem to find any experience comparable to this one. Nothing that feels _this_ electric, like two atoms clashing together.

Kakashi’s lips are full, and Iruka traces them with the tip of his tongue. He kisses over that beauty mark, and gasps as two hands squeeze roughly at his rear.

“This _ass,_ ” Kakashi sighs, squeezing again. “It’s my new reason for living.”

“It’s yours,” Iruka blurts, and inhales sharply as Kakashi’s hands slide down to his thighs and lift.

“All dogs off the couch!” Kakashi calls, and then sits down with Iruka in his lap. Iruka gets with the program quickly. He _needs_ his hands on bare skin, and he tugs on Kakashi’s sweater until he raises his arms to help pull it off. Iruka immediately skims down his collarbone, and squeezes around his pecs. Kakashi laughs, and Iruka does it again.

“You are _cut,_ ” Iruka curses.

Kakashi eye-smiles at him. He chooses to slide his hands under Iruka’s shirt, and run up the line of his back. Iruka shivers from the goosebumps, and rolls his hips as he finds Kakashi’s mouth again. He’s not sure which one of them groans, but Iruka has been turned on for like, three days now.

Iruka may be wearing jeans, but Kakashi is only in joggers, and his hardon through the fabric is _mouthwatering._ They move together, Iruka rolling down against him and Kakashi squeezing him around the ribs. Iruka is addicted to Kakashi’s taste, like candy on his tongue. The kisses are sweet, and then dirty, like flipping a coin over and over.

Kakashi fondles him through the denim and Iruka chokes. It’s a mad fumble to fling off Iruka’s belt, and the image of Kakashi tucking his waistband beneath his balls will forever be branded into Iruka’s mind. The sight of his cock hard against his bellybutton is like something out of a porno.

“Can I blow you?” Iruka blurts.

“Baby, I will bust before you drop to your knees,” Kakashi tells, and his exhale is shaky as he pulls Iruka out of his underwear and fits them together. Iruka groans appreciatively, and then laughs as Kakashi spits into his left hand and urges Iruka to grind with his right.

“If only Kakuzu knew.”

“Don’t tattle on me,” Kakashi purrs, and Iruka’s cock _jumps_ when Kakashi sucks on his ear. His keen echoes, and he rocks in Kakashi’s lap to chase the heat swirling around in his stomach.

Everything Kakashi does is a turn on. Even his breathing – forced quiet, staccato and catching whenever Iruka is especially skilled at kissing with his tongue. Iruka presses a hand to Kakashi’s stomach just to feel the muscles clench.

They look like art, rolling together, two puzzle pieces that fit, Iruka’s ponytail swishing back and forth from the effort. 

“You are so beautiful,” Kakashi sighs. A finger rolls down his tailbone, and Iruka bites a groan through his teeth as the hand then squeezes his ass. Iruka full-body trembles again, and Kakashi tightens his grip, and really starts to jerk them off in tandem. His fingers are evil, and it’s not long until Iruka is just barely holding on. Kakashi’s cock is slick against him, and his hold is so – _possessive,_ but tender and attentive and it makes it so hard to pretend, so difficult to remember that this isn’t real. 

“I’m gonna’ come,” Iruka grits, and then does as Kakashi bites into his throat and pulls. It hits him hard, a shout ripping from his throat, and Kakashi _purrs._

“Fuck.” Kakashi jerks back to watch Iruka as he falls to pieces. “You’re the devil, sweetheart. I want to lick every inch of you. Even your cock is cute.”

Iruka throbs so hard, his toes curl. He nearly vibrates from the intensity of it.

“Don’t – _nn –_ “ Iruka shivers, rolling with the aftershocks. Kakashi’s hand is coated and sticky, and it makes Iruka flush to his toes. “Don’t tease.”

“Touch me,” Kakashi pleads. He reaches for Iruka’s palm with his clean hand, and leads it between his legs. “Please baby I’m right _there._ ”

Iruka does so without hesitation. He sits back on his thighs, works him base to tip, and watches Kakashi’s head roll back against the cushions, and his throat work as he moans. He spills hot, and Iruka keeps going, and decides to make good on his promise from earlier, sucking on the curve of his neck until Kakashi is nudging his hand away, oversensitive.

The room is nothing but hard breathing. Iruka starts to flush as they settle, and he hides his face in Kakashi’s shoulder. He can feel Kakashi’s chest rising and falling. There’s a quick shuffle to wipe his fingers off on his discarded shirt.

Iruka squeezes his eyes shut when a hand returns to the small of his back. Kakashi’s head turns lazily, and speaks to his ear.

“Can I see you?”

Iruka swallows. Slowly, he sits back. He chews on his cheek, and is almost afraid to meet Kakashi’s eye. He waits for the inevitable.

_Okay. You can go._

_I got what I wanted._

_You’re dismissed._

Kakashi rolls his finger around a strand of hair that escaped his ponytail. Iruka smiles sleepily as it’s placed behind his ear.

“So pretty,” Kakashi mumbles. 

Iruka breathes a laugh, and begins to tuck them both into their pants.

“I don’t like false flattery.”

“I am not going to play this game with you,” Kakashi frowns, his tone back in that hair-raising deadpan. “You’re so delicious, I’d eat you if I could.”

“You have to butter me up first,” Iruka teases, and Kakashi snickers a soundless laugh against his mouth.

They’re in two completely different leagues. Worlds, even galaxies apart, two paths that should never cross. But cuddled like this, with Kakashi’s lips pressed to his cheek, Iruka can at least play pretend.

~

“Why do you have eight dogs?” Iruka asks, sliding in the silver hooped earring Kakashi gave him.

Kakashi uses the mirror behind the driver’s seat to run his tongue over his teeth. “They kept playing the ASPCA commercial on my soap channel.”

Iruka laughs, almost stabbing a new hole through his earlobe. He turns to Kakashi incredulously.

“Wait, the arms of an angel one?”

“Yeah. Whenever it comes on it makes me so sad I have to go get another dog.”

“Oh my god. For real?”

“Yeah. I’ve never told anyone that,” Kakashi says, shutting the mirror. Iruka freezes, and then squints.

“Then why are you telling me?”

“Because nobody will believe you,” Kakashi grins. The car parks, and Kakashi pats Iruka’s thigh. “Sweeten up, we’re here.”

“You’re the worst,” Iruka says, and then smiles cutely for the valet.

~

Iruka is beginning to question his career as a teacher. It’s not that he doesn’t love his job – it’s just – they can’t _all_ forget how to write the word ‘Wednesday’, can they? An entire class? Granted, it’s not the easiest word on the planet but… _every_ student? Where did Iruka go wrong?

He nearly cries in relief when he comes across a spelling test with more than fifty percent of the words spelled correctly. It looks like they’re going to need some recap.

His back is sore, so he’s taken to sitting on the floor and grading on the coffee table, because for some reason that makes sense. It’s not – okay, get your mind out of the gutter – it’s just those _shoes_ Kakashi keeps putting him in. Yes, they’re designer, but wow they hurt after three hours.

His apartment feels too quiet. His plug-in fan spins lazily, and the windchime on his balcony jingles with the breeze. Iruka sets his cheek on the table, and sighs.

Recently, he’s felt mucky after phone calls with Naruto. It used to make him so energized and proud, but now he just swims in guilt whenever Naruto gives him a ring.

Dinner is still cooling in the pot; it’s the type of ramen that Naruto would always beg him for.

That windchime clings again.

It’s too quiet.

Everything seems to rattle with the abrupt knock on his door. Iruka sits upright, and waits long enough to hear it again.

A package? But Iruka already received the clothes for tomorrow evening. Did they forget something?

Iruka opens the door, and Kakashi is standing there in joggers and sunglasses. He’s holding a redbull, his laptop is under his arm, and Kakashi pulls off the glasses as soon as Iruka answers.

“Yo.”

“Umm…” Iruka stares. “Hello?”

“Tenzo has the dogs and it’s too quiet back at my place,” Kakashi explains. He steps past him, and Iruka shuts the door, before rolling his eyes.

“Come on in I guess." 

“It smells good in here,” Kakashi says, taking refuge on Iruka’s couch. The apartment is kind of a mess, and Iruka scrambles to clean up some of the clutter.

“Um, I just finished dinner. It’s on the stove if you want some.”

“I might, thanks.”

“Er…sorry about the uh…everything. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Kakashi props his feet up on the other end of the couch, like he’s already concluded that Iruka was working on the floor anyways. He opens his laptop and shrugs, “I’d be impressed if you were. Unless you’re a psychic.”

“My kids seem to think I am,” Iruka smiles, and sits on the floor again. He tips his head to look up at Kakashi, “Did you drive all the way here because you were lonely?”

Kakashi’s attention turns to him for real this time, and it slices through him, crawls under his skin and makes Iruka feel like he’s the only man left in the world.

“Maybe. Should I go?”

“Nope,” Iruka smiles, and props his arms on the couch cushions. “You could kiss me though.”

A pleased expression crosses his face, and Kakashi rolls to one shoulder so he can press their lips together gently. It’s the softest kiss they’ve had yet, and Iruka feels tingly when he leans back.

“Happy?”

No. It’s too domestic, _too much_ of what Iruka wants.

“Yes,” Iruka says. He turns back around, and resumes grading with a newfound focus.

Not much changes, besides the clicking of a keyboard behind him. Iruka steals a sip of his redbull without looking, and thirty-minutes later Kakashi’s fingers tug at his hairband and absently thread through his hair.

Iruka hums, “I’m not a dog.”

“You’re pretty like one,” Kakashi replies. Iruka snorts, but briefly closes his eyes as Kakashi begins to massage into his scalp. It makes his spine tingle.

“I’m flattered, I think.”

“Your hair is longer,” Kakashi notes. He pulls one of the strands to his upper back, like he’s measuring it.

“Yeah, that happens with hair,” Iruka says, and then giggles as Kakashi yanks on his ear.

“Keep up the sass and you’ll make me horny.”

It sounds like a joke, but knowing Kakashi, it’s probably not.

Iruka turns around on his knees and smiles, pleased to see all the handsome, straight lines of Kakashi’s face lit in mischief. Iruka pets from the bottom of his scar, over his eyelid and above his brow.

“Is that a promise?”

Kakashi kisses him like a man starved. Iruka crawls on the couch and blows him until his jaw hurts. His hair hangs around his face like a curtain, and Kakashi uses his fingers to keep the strands away from his forehead, and Iruka can’t quite decipher the faraway look in his eyes.

It’s good either way. Iruka swallows, and Kakashi kisses the taste out of his mouth until his lips are numb.

~

The typical contents are all here. There’s a stunning black suit embroidered in silver thread, dangly earrings and a low cut blouse.

But when Iruka carefully removes the clothing, he finds more at the bottom, and oh, Iruka is going to _kill him._

Sitting pretty is a strappy lace bralette, matching underwear and a garter belt with stockings. Kakashi bought him lingerie.

 _I should just chuck it out the window,_ Iruka thinks angrily. _Who does he think I am?_

However, Iruka is reluctant to put it back, because he knows that’s exactly what Kakashi expects him to do.

Damn him.

“You’re a dick,” is the first thing Iruka says that evening, and Kakashi smiles innocently like he’s never done anything wrong in his life.

“I hope you didn’t actually throw it away,” Kakashi says, his arm wrapped around Iruka’s. “It was a nice quality.”

“Choke,” Iruka beams. Kakashi snickers like he thinks he’s won, and Iruka simply waits for the right moment.

There are chefs cooking for the business parties gathered around expensive kotatsus. Kakashi is discussing something in English again, and Iruka kneels politely at his side. The reveal is easy, and payback is sweet.

A mogul’s candy asks about the garnets around his neck. Iruka pulls his shirt to the side, and the strap of the bra is revealed.

Kakashi’s eyes go comically wide, before he remembers to reign in his expression. Iruka finishes his polite discussion with the candy, before turning back to Kakashi as he squeezes his thigh.

“Yes sir?”

Kakashi reels him in close and hisses.

“You didn’t.”

Iruka pulls up his pantleg to absently scratch at his ankle. The sheen of the black sock is unnoticeable to anyone but Kakashi.

“We have to go,” Kakashi says, loud and sudden. 

“Oh, already? But dinner only just finished.”

“I’m sorry Tsunade-sama. There was an unforeseen problem at the office.”

The heiress nods skeptically, “Hm. Alright, good evening Kakashi.”

“You as well,” Kakashi bows politely, and Iruka has to cover his mouth as he’s yanked from the table and all but thrown over Kakashi’s shoulder.

“That was rude, I was having fun,” Iruka lectures as he’s tossed in the car. Kakashi slams the privacy window shut and _attacks._

“You _fox,”_ Kakashi hisses, hands immediately under his shirt and feeling for the bralette. “What were you thinking?”

“What was I –? You gave this to me!” Iruka barks, and then yelps as fingers squirm down his pants without even undoing his top button. Kakashi trembles as his fingers hit silk.

“Oh my fucking god,” Kakashi curses, and the wrecked look in his eyes is enough for Iruka to feel smug. “I really thought you’d thrown it away.”

Iruka digs his nails into Kakashi’s scalp, and chews down on a groan as the car moves and Kakashi’s mouth sucks into his neck.

“I know,” Iruka swallows. “That’s why I didn’t.”

When they reach the condo, Kakashi bends him over and presses his hands to the window. The city lights flicker beneath them, and Iruka’s breath fogs the glass as Kakashi peels the lace to his thighs and eats him out like it’s all he’s good for.

Iruka’s hair hangs around him, noises bitten off and choked and reverberated around the open room. Kakashi’s hands are like iron, thumbs strong and spreading him open and Iruka sobs his name over and over like a prayer.

Later, when they’re curled up in the sheets of Kakashi’s bed, Iruka mumbles into his naked chest; “You’re paying the ticket for public indecency.”

“They’re tinted, sweetheart,” Kakashi mumbles sleepily, fingers still smoothing over Iruka’s socked thigh. “You really think I’d let anyone else see you like this?”

Iruka rolls over to his side to hide his smile, and Kakashi’s fingers wriggle higher between his thighs, and Iruka smacks his hand away when it gets too brave.

~

He doesn’t wake up disappointed because Kakashi is gone. Iruka already knew about his 8 am meeting.

He wakes up disappointed because there is a _knocking_ sound before 9, and it’s his day off.

Iruka sits up groggily, and squints at his surroundings. The white sheets are twisted, and Kakashi’s phone and watch are both gone from the nightstand. Iruka scrubs his hands through his messy bedhead, and swings his legs over the side.

_Thunk thunk thunk!_

“Ugh, hold on,” Iruka calls, rubbing his eyes.

He fell asleep in the underwear from last night, and all his spare clothes are in the guestroom downstairs, so Iruka fumbles for one of Kakashi’s black sleeping yukatas and gets it over one shoulder before the banging starts up again.

Iruka’s socked feet slide a little on the floor, and he steadies himself before looking in the peephole.

He inhales, steps back, and then looks again.

_Shit._

In the hallway are two investors Iruka has seen during poker nights at the _Wheel._ They’re the snobby ones, always calling Kakashi at ridiculous hours of the night. There must’ve been a scheduling conflict.

Iruka looks down at himself and thinks _double shit._ There’s teeth marks down his chest and handprints on his thighs and the stockings are bunched around his knees and he looks downright ravished, and – _hey._ Wait a moment.

_“Kakashi-sama?”_

Iruka can’t resist. The prankster in him is just too strong. He throws open the door, and gets the satisfaction of watching two grown men go through the five stages of grief in ten seconds.

“Hi,” Iruka smiles.

“Uh…” the first gentleman stares, looking Iruka up and down. He looks like he’s debating if it’s worth speaking to him, but the second man steps in.

“We have an eight-thirty appointment with Kakashi-sama, and he isn’t answering his phone. Is he home?”

“I’m sorry,” Iruka pouts. “Kakashi left for a meeting at the office. You must have just passed him.”

“Ah. I see. We will go meet him there.”

“Tell daddy hi for me!” Iruka waves, and tries so very hard not to laugh at their faces as he slams the door shut.

Serves them right. Who goes to their bosses _home_ to discuss business?

Well, if there’s any doubts that Kakashi was faking it, they’re gone now.

Later, Iruka sits at the kitchen barstool reading over lesson plans, popping grapes in his mouth and digging his toes into Bull’s fur, when his phone lights up on the counter.

_“Baby, what did you do?”_

Iruka leans back and snickers.

~

“Maybe you’re the genius,” Kakashi says, arms around Iruka’s waist, face snuggled in his stomach.

“Now you’re getting it,” Iruka hums, and tries not to think about how _badly_ he’d like to stay here forever.

Kakashi noses into his ribs, and the sleepy look on his face makes him appear so young. Iruka’s throat goes tight.

How did they get here? This isn’t just sex anymore. This is dicking around in the kitchen while Iruka makes post-party pancakes. This is sharing a shower because it’s _‘easier’,_ climbing in the same bed because _‘what’s the use, we’ll end up here in the morning anyways’._

Iruka feels like he’s dying. Like the world is trying to chip away at him piece by piece until there’s nothing left. Iruka looks at Kakashi, and feels a swell in his chest heavy enough to suffocate him with too many feelings.

This man is in the top one percent. He owns property in every inch of the world. And he shakes the chip bags and adopts dogs from the commercials and reads shitty books and won’t drink wine and leg-wrestles his best friend for a silly life-long rivalry.

Kakashi looks up at him with foggy grey eyes and gives a smile that nobody else gets to see. 

“Thanks to you, I don’t think they’ll be nagging me for a long time.”

Iruka’s heart twists.

~

There are two weeks left to the contract. New proposals for Hateco’s expansion are already in the works, and by all means, this should be a good thing.

Iruka attends parties with hickeys stringed around his neck like the jewelry Kakashi puts there. People stare and Iruka smiles and Kakashi makes nice with the old men from old money, and this tag-team they’ve built _works._

When the nights one and done, they wrestle and laugh and make out in Kakashi’s bed until the sun comes up.

They’re almost there. Kakashi says Naruto’s last tuition payment will be made soon.

Iruka sits in the bottom of the shower, and watches the water drain in an almost hypnotic state.

He knows what he’s doing to himself, but he’s too far deep to stop.

It’s like walking your own plank. Staring into the ocean and jumping of your own volition, even if you know it’ll hurt. Because the heart in your chest says _jump, fool._ That lovely siren might just catch you.

_She won’t bite. She’ll only leave you to drown._

  
He’s sitting on a tower made of lies. 

~

As beautiful as this blouse is, Iruka cannot for the life of him get it on. He managed to tie the laces around the cuffs, but the ones at the collar keep getting twisted, and Iruka huffs impatiently as he’s forced to yank out the tie and do it over.

Maybe he’s just in a bad mood to begin with. This gala is supposed to be a very big deal, and while Kakashi is typically late to begin with, Iruka would hate for it to be because of him.

Iruka tries replacing the string again, tipping his head to study his reflection. He feels more like a sexy pirate more than anything, but he will admit, this is one of the better outfits Kakashi has chosen for him.

The blouse is large and billowy; a sparkly white, see-through chiffon. It’s tucked into high-waist trousers with a tailored waistline, four buttons running down the front of the fly shield. The boots are leather with a heel, and reach his knees. This gala is supposed to be _Victorian_ inspired, and Iruka is thanking his lucky stars that he doesn’t have to wear some three-hundred pound dress.

A figure steps behind him in the mirror, and Iruka sighs dejectedly as Kakashi takes over the tie for him.

“Need help?”

“No,” Iruka says with sarcasm. “I obviously had it.”

Kakashi smells like cotton and cologne. He feels broad against Iruka’s back.

“Not with that boy-scout knot.” Kakashi’s tone is flat, but Iruka can see the humor in his eyes. He tips his head back against Kakashi’s shoulder to let him see better, then stands back up straight again when the tie is right.

Iruka adjusts the cuffs. “I was a great boy-scout, thank you.” 

“These, too,” Kakashi hums, and reaches up to slide little diamond hoops in his ears. Mesmerized by the sparkle, Iruka holds his breath as Kakashi does the clasp, and slides in the other one.

“Kakashi…”

“I know you don’t like the showy stuff,” Kakashi says, breath at his ear. “But I thought these met in the middle. See, they look gorgeous on you.”

 _It shouldn’t matter what I like,_ Iruka wants to think. But then again, Kakashi has never chosen something that Iruka has downright hated.

He turns his head in the mirror. The hoops pick up light, just like the hairpins holding the braids in his ponytail.

Kakashi steps back and eye-smiles at him, and Iruka goes breathless all over again. The double-breasted tailcoat looks like it was made for him. It probably was. The suit is embroidered and flattering and just modern enough for the rest of the flashy ensemble.

“All you need is a monocle,” Iruka jokes.

“Now I wish I had thought of that.” Kakashi extends out his hand in waiting, and Iruka stares at it, momentarily at a loss. Kakashi wiggles his fingers, “Let’s go, baby. Tenzo’s waiting.”

Iruka takes his hand slowly. Kakashi says goodbye to the dogs and leads them out the front door, and Iruka begs himself, for the love of all that is holy, to get his shit together.

~

The gala is, like anything else, over the top and glitzy. The gowns are amazing, the orchestra is grand, and the ballroom of the hotel is like something out of a movie. Iruka knows better than to gawk, but he is silently floored by how many people are here.

This event is much of the same. Kakashi mingles with the rich, Iruka stands around and looks pretty, etcetera etcetera. It’s hard to tell who’s who with such expensive accessories and flamboyant fashion.

Iruka once asked why he never sees celebrities at these events. He was sure that at least once he’d recognize a face or two; but Kakashi’s answer had been a wake-up call.

_“These people are leagues above any tabloid. They don’t have paparazzi; they own the paparazzi.”_

Iruka keeps himself entertained with the champagne. Kakashi’s presence relaxes him, and the hand at his back is more of an anchor these days.

“Well isn’t this a surprise?”

Kakashi turns, and Kisame approaches with his own new candy wrapped in his beltloops. Iruka stiffens as he recognizes him as that angry twink from the kink bar. The confusing part is; Kakashi stiffens as well.

“Kisame,” Kakashi greets flatly. They shake hands, “I didn’t know you were on the invite list.”

“You don’t think I’m classy enough? I’m hurt,” Kisame says in good humor. “Deidara and I are friends with the duchess.”

“Is that so?”

Deidara’s face is unreadable. He looks beautiful, sure, but there’s something in the way he smiles to Kakashi, and then slides his gaze to Iruka like he’s looking at the bottom of the barrel. Iruka’s never done a damn thing to him, so he refuses to take the bait.

Kisame and Kakashi make simple conversation, until the orchestra swings into a new song, and Kakashi turns his head to nose against Iruka’s cheek.

“Want to dance?”

 _“What?”_ Iruka hisses, but it’s too late. He’s already being tugged to the dancefloor, where dozens of other couples move around the ballroom. Iruka panics _,_ because while he might be Kakashi’s plus one, he’s still a candy _,_ and none of the other moguls are dancing with _their_ candies. “Kakashi – ” Iruka begins, but Kakashi has started to lead. “ _What are you doing?”_

“I needed out of there,” Kakashi explains, and while his face may be a perfect mask, the hand at his hip is soft, and he leads like a natural.

“I’m getting really sick and tired of the manhandling. If you want me to go somewhere then _tell me,_ I have two perfectly working legs.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kakashi hums, and spins Iruka with the swell of the music. Iruka isn’t high society, but he at least knows a waltz, thank goodness. He’d be screwed otherwise.

“Is this a good idea?” Iruka whispers. “People are staring.”

“People are always staring.”

Iruka feels self-conscious of his sweaty palms, but Kakashi doesn’t comment on them. Kakashi sets an easy lead, and Iruka tries not to look directly in his eyes, because that’s a certified way to make him go red all over. Still, Iruka can feel his gaze burning into him, overpowering just like he is.

They move across the marble floor, and Iruka dares to look at him. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

“I was forced into lessons as a kid,” Kakashi says. As beautiful as Kakashi is like this; perfect posture, tamed hair, well-mannered – Iruka almost yearns for the Kakashi he sees behind closed doors. Slouched, messy and _rude._ But only sometimes. Only when he’s poking fun. Only when he’s _relaxed._

For a few moments, it feels like they’re the only two left in the world. These events have been everything; sexy, sleazy, dirty, expensive — but never — not like this. Not an illusion of romance. Never the open, affectionate look Kakashi is sneaking him. 

  
Iruka leans closer. Kakashi slows their dance, and slips a hand to cup Iruka by the cheek. He tips his head, and just as Iruka thinks he might kiss him in front of all these people, Kakashi freezes. His eyes dart up and over Iruka’s shoulder with full alert, and he straightens back up again.

“It’s time for me to go,” Kakashi says gently, taking Iruka’s hands. “We’re going to a guarded hotel room. Call me if you need me.”

“Good luck,” Iruka says, leaning into the kiss on his cheek. “Spit out your gum.”

Kakashi laughs under his breath, and like usual, Iruka goes off to find the alcohol.

~

All they’ve got is champagne, and it sucks. Okay, champagne is fine, but it always makes him sweat, so Iruka has to nurse it at a table while the other candies discuss vacations and spoils.

Myra is here, along with some of the others Iruka has befriended, so it could be worse.

“Those are beautiful, Iruka. Just absolutely beautiful,” Myra sighs, lightly swinging his earring to watch it catch the light. Iruka has to remind himself to keep character, and not spill his heart out all over the table.

“Aren’t they? He knows what I like, I don’t even have to ask anymore,” Iruka smiles. Myra giggles, and Karui sighs, head in her hand.

“My daddy don’t know shit. The jewelry is fine, but I keep gettin’ asked out from some cute chubby little college kid at my Starbucks, and at this point, I’m thinking I might want to say yes.”

A few of the girls gasp.

“You want out?”

“The sex sucks,” Karui huffs. “I wanna’ pawn the jewelry and put my ass through school.”

“Or you can suck it up and make him pay for it,” Myra says.

“I tried, but he doesn’t want me to get an education.”

“You’re above that,” Iruka says a little too honestly. “You’re above all this, Karui. Leave him.”

Iruka gets a few stares at his boldness, but he doesn’t take the words back. Karui smiles and sips her champagne, “You gonna’ take over my bills?”

“Pff, Kakashi would never.” 

“Please, you are _working_ Hatake right now,” Myra laughs. “He is at your beck and call, sweetie.”

Iruka rubs his scar nervously, and the girls laugh. There’s a bit of a commotion behind them, and Iruka turns to see Deidara sit at a nearby table with a handful of other girls.

“Oh my god they have macaroons?” Karui gasps. “Someone come with me.”

“I’ll go!”

“Me too. Iruka, are you coming?”

“Bring me back one,” Iruka waves, and the girls smile and nod. Iruka takes another sip, and turns his head away when Deidara notices him.

“Anyways,” Deidara continues. “He’s a good fuck, but not the best I’ve had. I mean, at least his dick is big.”

 _Jesus,_ Iruka thinks. _This is a gala, not a bar._

“Does he wear the teeth in bed?”

“Pfft, no.”

“I lucked out,” a lady says. “My mans’ a one pump chump, then I get all the clothes I want.”

“You know who’s a _good_ fuck?”

“Who?”

“Hatake.”

Iruka stiffens like a board.

“There is _no_ way you did Hatake.”

“Yeah. Rumor had it he wouldn’t take a baby for anyone.”

“I wasn’t really his baby,” Deidara hums. “But we met in a bar back in our early twenties. He had stamina like you won’t fuckin’ believe.”

Iruka lets go of his champagne glass before he crushes it. He starts watching the doorway for Kakashi instead.

“Well I mean, look at him. He’s sex on legs.”

“Sure, but he’s a bag of cats. He’s got more issues than a psych ward.”

“No!”

“Yup. He’d blow my back out, but kept me up all night with his stupid nightmares.”

Iruka feels hot, scorching rage run through him. This man has _no right_ to talk about Kakashi like this. He keeps his back turned, barely restrained.

“Pfft. Rich people. I’d like to see him have real problems.”

“What happened to him anyways?”

“I dunno’. I think his mom was a whore, died of AIDS or something, and his dad went and offed himself from the shame.”

“Aww, poor bastar—”

Iruka slams his hands against the table and stands. It rattles the glasses, and heads whip over to look at him.

“You –“ Iruka snarls, all formalities gone, “— need to watch your mouth.”

A long, solid beat.

Deidara’s eyes go wide, before they narrow in anger.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, newbie.”

Iruka stands his ground.

“I don’t care what history you have with him. I _will not_ allow you to sit here and slander his family like this.”

Deidara rises slowly, batting off the concerned girls at the table. “Awww, you think you’re special because Kakashi _takes you_ places?”

“At least he didn’t hide me in the closet like a _mistake,”_ Iruka spits.

“Pfft, you really think I’m lying?” Deidara laughs coldly. “He’s fucked in the head. He’s the reason his childhood friends died, did you know that?”

Fury builds like a tidal wave. Iruka clenches his teeth, and grits.

“I’m only going to repeat myself one more time. Shut. Up.”

“Deidara, sit down,” a candy pulls, eyeing the crowd that’s now watching.

Deidara snorts, patting his friend on the shoulder. “He’s just mad because he got my sloppy seconds.”

“At least _I’m_ not sloppy seconds,” Iruka snaps back, and then that’s it. His head snaps sideways, and Deidara’s fist cracks across his mouth.

Many things happen at once. Women gasp and clutch their pearls. A hush comes across the ballroom. Iruka staggers back, and blinks at the marble floor.

Then, Iruka begins to laugh.

He spits the blood pooling in his mouth, and nods, “Alright.”

Then he punches Deidara straight in the jaw.

It’s a mad scramble. There’s screaming, calls for security and a mad rush of people to watch them brawl. Someone shouts _catfight!!_ And Iruka gets two good punches in before Deidara tackles him to the floor.

“You _whore!”_ Deidara straddles him, and Iruka flails madly, elbowing his throat and kneeing into his stomach. “ _You think you’re special, but you’re just like the rest of us!”_ Iruka takes a hit, but he’s too pissed to feel the pain. _“You’re a nobody!”_

“Someone stop them!”

Just as Iruka claws across his face, all at once the weight is gone. Iruka scrambles to sit upright, and catches just enough to see Deidara flung across the floor, and Kakashi standing protectively in front of him.

“Control your bitch!” Kisame barks, helping Deidara to his feet.

“You damn well better protect yours,” Kakashi snarls back. “Because if he lays another finger on him it’s fucking over.”

Everyone is watching. _Everyone._ Even the music has stopped, and Iruka is too high on adrenaline be embarrassed about it. Still seeing red, Iruka jumps to his feet, and Kisame has to hold Deidara back by an arm.

“You’re lucky your daddy’s here to save you!” Deidara claws through Kisame’s arms.

“If you like licking boots so much how about you taste _mine!_ ” Iruka shouts back, but Kakashi yanks him back by the shoulder.

His voice is like a crack of thunder. It cuts through the commotion like lightning.

_“Iruka.”_

He pauses. Kakashi grips his arm and pulls him back to his side.

“Tell security there will be no charges,” Kakashi says to a waitress. “They can speak with my assistant for a statement.” He eyes Kisame, who nods sharply at the terms. Kakashi pulls again and grinds, “Lets go.”

“I was winning,” Iruka huffs, and hisses in pain as Kakashi kneads into his sore shoulder.

“Shut it.”

There isn’t any room left for arguing, so Iruka fumes as he’s pulled through the lobby and into the prep kitchen.

“Out,” Kakashi says, and the staff scatters. Iruka has never seen him so angry, and it only winds Iruka up more.

“Kakashi!” Iruka snaps. “They’re just doing their jobs.”

“Yeah? Well so am I,” Kakashi replies tonelessly and fills a plastic bag with ice before shoving Iruka onto the bench. “Sit.”

“Stop pushing me!”

“Iruka, I’m losing my patience with you. Sit down.”

He does, but only because his head is swimming laps. Iruka squints angrily as Kakashi grips his chin, and sits next to him to assess the damage. Iruka can feel blood running down his chin, and he knows he’s probably going to have a black eye. This shirt is definitely ruined.

“Nothings broken,” Kakashi says. He wipes at Iruka’s mouth with a wet paper towel, and Iruka flinches.

“Ow!”

“Fucking _shit_ Iruka. Look at you.” Kakashi scowls, “What the hell were you thinking?”

Iruka puffs up. “I don’t care who I’m pretending to be. I’m not going to sit around and let someone drag your name through the dirt like that.”

Kakashi’s eyes widen in surprise, but then narrow again. He presses the ice to Iruka’s jaw and growls, “Did you forget where we are? There is a _duchess_ in that room, Iruka.”

“I don’t care where I am!” Iruka shouts, and to his own horror, his voice begins to catch. “He was saying terrible things about you! He was dishonoring your, your…” Iruka chokes, and all the fury, the embarrassment and the heartbreak just hit him at once. His shoulders wrack, and he curls into himself as his voice breaks. “He was insulting your family in front of everyone.”

Kakashi freezes, all the anger in his face wiping into a blank slate. The pain begins to seep in as the adrenaline turns into big, ugly sobbing. Fat tears roll down Iruka’s cheeks, and his fingers tremble against the ice pack.

“I can’t d-do this anymore,” Iruka sobs, hiding his face in his fingers. It crushes down on him, the dumbbell of feelings he’s been wearing on his chest. “Kakashi I, _hic,_ c-can’t.”

Iruka knows he wouldn’t get that irrationally angry for just anyone. But the possessiveness burned through him like a match at both ends, this ridiculous urge to protect Kakashi from things he has no business knowing about.

“Iruka…” Kakashi begins slowly, and pries Iruka’s fingers away from his face.

“I have to go,” Iruka pulls away. “I’m sorry, I can’t – Kakashi I, I– ”

_I love you._

“Can I show you something?” Kakashi asks, and the question is so abrupt that Iruka’s tears stall.

“Wh-what?” Iruka stutters, still trying to wipe his eyes. Kakashi takes over for him, kneeling at his feet and smothering his fingers up the tender, wet skin on Iruka’s cheeks. It’s so gentle and different from the steel grip that had yanked him into the kitchen.

“It’s just an hour outside of town.” Kakashi begs, “Please. I’ll drive, just you and me.”

“Right now?” Iruka asks bewilderedly.

“Yes.”

Gaping, Iruka blinks away more of the tears, and fights the hiccups in his chest.

“But Kakashi, I –“

“Before you say anything, please. Let me just…” Kakashi runs his knuckles down Iruka’s neck, and suddenly his expression is _open._ Worried and angry and sad. So very sad. “Let me show you this. Please.”

Iruka sniffles and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “I left my phone out there.”

“I’ll have someone bring it to you.”

“It – it’ll be morning by the time we get there.”

“A sub will cover your class.”

“But Kakashi…”

“Please, darling.”

Iruka knows he’s already given in, and Kakashi leans up to kiss his swollen cheek.

“They’ll want a statement.”

“My people will handle it.” Kakashi takes his hand and stands. “Come on, let's go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iruka dont play no games. big jounin run them boots boy
> 
> thanks for being nice :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for brief canon suicide mention

Tenzo is already tossing Kakashi the keys to his sportscar when they reach the valet. A medic double checks Iruka’s wounds, and places a padded bandaid on his cheek before releasing him back to Kakashi.

True to his word, an employee is waiting with his phone in hand. There’s a scratch on the screen, but it could’ve been worse, all things considered.

The drive is long and silent. Iruka keeps ice on his eye, and it feels strange to watch Kakashi drive. He’s not reckless, but he’s fast, and soon they’re on a road outside of town, right through the middle of nowhere.

Guilt begins to settle with the fatigue. Iruka shifts against the passenger side window, and studies the broken skin on his knuckles.

It’s the early-morning kind of dark, where the haze is black and blue. Kakashi’s focus is on the road in front of them, and he looks as tired as Iruka feels.

“Kakashi,” Iruka sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I – I might’ve just ruined everything.”

“You didn’t,” Kakashi says flatly. He looks at him out of the corner of his eye, and adjusts his hands on the wheel. “Worse things have happened.”

“I know. I’m still sorry.”

“It won’t hit the news, but my social circle will know about it by tomorrow,” Kakashi says, making Iruka flinch. “They’ll know you mean business.”

Iruka snorts, but doesn’t have it in him to laugh. Gazing out the window, Iruka rolls his fingers in his lap. His heart aches like his body.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Is it important?”

“Sort of.” Kakashi doesn’t respond, so Iruka continues. “Did you really um. Hook up with Deidara?”

“Does it matter?” Kakashi asks, and Iruka’s stomach sinks.

“Not really. I just wanted to know if – if he was lying, that is.”

Kakashi sighs, and runs his hands through his hair, the gel long gone. He’s only in a dress shirt now, and the buttons have been popped down to his sternum. 

“It was a bad time in my life.”

“I understand,” Iruka nods. “You don’t have to say anything else. That’s all I wanted to know.”

Fingers slide into his lap, and Iruka looks back over as Kakashi squeezes his knee.

“He wanted more and I didn’t. It was as simple as that.”

Somehow, Iruka’s heart sinks harder, all the way to his feet.

 _Right,_ he thinks. _Just like now._

His mouth tastes sour. 

  
They pull into pebble road, and the car rolls to a stop outside some large iron gates. Kakashi steps out of the car to punch in a code, and Iruka tries to peek out the window and see where they are. He sees a forest with large, _old_ trees, and he can hear birds singing with the early morning.

Kakashi steps back in the car and pulls them further onto the lot.

It’s an estate, Iruka realizes. Old and Tuscany, with trimmed hedges and big iron doors. Vines crawl up the posts, and the architecture is so gorgeous, it’s almost magical.

Kakashi turns the car off. They sit in silence as Kakashi stares ahead.

“I haven’t been here since I was six,” he admits.

“Huh?”

“Come on,” Kakashi steps out. “Let’s go inside.”

There’s nobody here. They’re on acres and acres of sculpted land, but it’s empty. Kakashi unlocks the door with a key on his keyring, and Iruka feels like he’s stepping into an abandoned candy store.

The mansion is covered in art. Western, eastern, its like a massive hodgepodge. 

“This is…” Iruka touches a column. “Kakashi, this is three-hundred-year-old architecture.”

“Yes,” Kakashi says.

Iruka steps into the living room, and studies the collection of old Greek statues.

“What…” Iruka trails. “This is – no. These are roman sculpture. And this.” Iruka steps to a painting on the wall, “This is a Vermeer but…it has to be a copy.”

“It’s not,” Kakashi says. He hovers in the round doorway of the living room, seemingly hesitant to go further. “My great-grandfather acquired it.”

Iruka steps up into the foyer and rounds the old piano. He further studies the old art hung on the walls. There are statues shoved around almost haphazardly, as if they were dumped and forgotten. It feels like the room should be covered in dust, a mansion plucked out of time, but it’s spotless.

Iruka puts two and two together.

“You were born here,” Iruka affirms.

Kakashi nods. Iruka passes the many rounded verandas, where glass windows sit unused. He spots a portrait over the fireplace, and his breath catches.

Hung on the wall is an oil painting of a woman with dark hair holding a pale-faced baby. The man next to her has long, silver hair, and his complexion is just as fair as the baby’s.

Deidara’s words haunt him. Iruka’s hands ache just as much as his cheek, but he twists them together and forces his voice steady as his back is turned.

“Why haven’t you come back here?”

“That’s where I found him,” Kakashi says, still unmoving from the doorway. “My father. I was six.” 

Iruka immediately steps away from the carpet, and his eyes burn.

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“I don’t know what Deidara told you…” Kakashi scratches his hair and looks away. “But. My mother died a year after my birth. She was…to my dad, she was the love of his life. I didn’t understand what he was going through.”

“You were a kid,” Iruka argues softly, turning to face him again. Kakashi shrugs, and pockets his hands.

“I wasn’t enough.”

Iruka forces back the tears, but one slips past him anyways. He doesn’t say what he’s heard before. The pitiful _I’m sorry, my condolences, they were good people –_

“It’s a terrible kind of loneliness, isn’t it?” Iruka whispers, and Kakashi’s head snaps up, like that wasn’t the response he was expecting.

He’s silent for a long time, and then.

“Yes.” He leans his shoulder up against the doorway, and Iruka knows the relaxed slouch is nothing but an act. “I left and never looked back.”

Iruka steps closer, trailing his fingers against the knobs on the old couch.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I knew you’d be able to find a beauty in this place that I can’t,” Kakashi says, eyes on the ceiling. “And I wanted to tell you on my terms. Not from whatever crap Deidara said.”

It hits hard. Kakashi is opening up to him. 

“Why?”

_I'm a nobody._

Kakashi doesn’t hesitate.

“Because you’re special to me.”

Iruka holds his breath. His heart begins to thump in his ears, an off-beat pattern to fuel his anxiety.

“Kakashi…” Iruka trails. “Don’t…” _Don’t fill my head with hope._

“I’m being serious, you know.”

“But…the contract is done tomorrow.”

“Fuck the contract!” Kakashi shouts, and Iruka jumps about half a foot in the air. His deep voice wavers, “Iruka, I…” and Kakashi takes a step into the room. Iruka is too shocked to move. He’s suddenly here, cupping Iruka’s cheeks with both hands and peering down at him with real, open, painful emotion. 

“Kakashi –”

“I love you,” he says.

Silence.

Iruka’s lungs collapse. He heaves in air, but it’s shallow and it trembles with the rest of him. It’s what he’s wanted to hear for so long, and he didn’t even know it. He’s wanted this, but it _hurts._

It’s impossible. This is a lie.

“No you don’t,” Iruka pulls away, trying for anger, but Kakashi holds him still.

“Yes I _do,_ ” Kakashi presses. He laughs shallowly and shakes his head, forcing Iruka to meet his eye with a firm grip. “You punched the shit out of someone for me. God, how could I not love you?”

“W-Well…th-that was…” Iruka squirms, but his throat feels tight, and his eyes are burning again, and he crumbles, “Really?”

Kakashi squeezes him tight, face burying into his hair. He lets go in one heavy breath; all the weight Kakashi has carried with him, all the rigidness and the pain. 

“Yes.”

  
Iruka curls into him.

“I love you too,” Iruka exhales, and then cries as Kakashi squeezes him even tighter. It’s not a heavy sob, but Iruka’s eyes just won’t stop. It’s like all the feelings he’s locked up tight come spilling between his ribs, and Kakashi holds him through it. He hiccups, “I’ve been agonizing myself over it. I th-thought my heart was going to tear itself apart.”

“I don’t want you to be my sugar baby anymore,” Kakashi says, petting his hair. “I just want you to be my _baby._ ”

Iruka laughs wetly. Then he nods. 

Sun is filtering in through the windows. It brings an early-morning chill, and birds sing outside in the trees. After a long moment, Iruka steps back and wipes his eyes, Kakashi’s hands settling on his shoulders. 

Iruka must look a mess. Bloody shirt, swollen cheek, red eyes.

“Thank you for showing me this place,” Iruka sniffs, meeting his gaze.

It’s more than just a house, or a memory. It’s a piece of who Kakashi is. A boy that had to grow up too young. A kid who had to experience things he didn’t deserve. A man who didn’t share these secrets with just anyone. 

Kakashi smiles at him and it’s so freaking beautiful.

“You make me want to be better.” Kakashi runs his thumb along the bruise beneath his eye, and leans down to press their lips together.

Iruka smiles into the kiss, even if it’s a little tender. The kiss is only a gentle contact, but it makes his toes curl in his shoes.

Kakashi pulls back and huffs, “Okay but for real, I need to get out of here. You ready to go home?”

Iruka laughs.

“Yes. I’ll drive.”

“Haha, no you won’t.”

~

The road is empty as they drive back into the city. Kakashi rolls down the top of the convertible, and Iruka kneels up on the seat, gripping the window as the wind washes through him.

The blood-stained, billowy fabric of his white shirt floats around him like silk in water. Iruka closes his eyes against the sun, the smell of trees and fresh air – and the car purrs as Kakashi lays down on the gas.

Iruka’s tie slips out of his hair. The strands are set loose, and the ribbon is lost somewhere on the open road.

Kakashi watches him reach up in the open air and curl his fingers, as if he could grab the wind and keep it.

~

There is magically a substitute for Iruka’s class that morning, so Kakashi cancels his meetings and they sleep in until the late afternoon. They don’t shower until dinnertime, and Kakashi orders takeout while Iruka dozes off again in his lap. It’s Friday, it’s fine.

Iruka is so emotionally and physically exhausted, that Saturday morning is much the same.

One of Kakashi’s soaps is on TV, and the sun filters through the curtains, and the white of the room makes it feel like they’re somewhere else. Maybe heaven. 

Kakashi returns to the bed barefoot and in sweatpants. He tosses his phone on the side table and flops over Iruka, pressing his face first into his stomach and squeezing his waist.

Iruka gets the wind partially knocked out of him, and he makes a punted _nnff_ sound, before dragging his fingers back through Kakashi’s hair.

“What did they say?”

“We’ve been pardoned. The duchess was ‘moved’ by your ‘devotion’ to me.” Kakashi makes air quotes, but they’re against the bare skin of his back, and it makes him squirm.

Iruka pets over Kakashi’s ears and cradles his head, “Ah. That’s a relief.” He pushes back his bangs and sighs, “I can take back my apology then.”

Kakashi laughs, startled. 

“What?”

“Yeah. I’m not really sorry for punching the shit out of Diedara.”

Kakashi looks up at him, eyebrows raised, and Iruka shrugs a shoulder.

“You are trouble,” Kakashi says.

“Also not sorry.”

“S’ okay,” Kakashi muffles. “You were hot all pissed off and bloody like that.”

Iruka chews on his lower lip. The majority of the swelling has gone down, and all that’s left is a bruise across his cheek and over his knuckles. Kakashi presses his lips to his abs, and it gives him butterflies.

Still. There’s something Iruka can’t stop thinking about. He is nothing if not stupidly brave.

“You don’t have to answer this, but. Um. There was something else he said that’s been bothering me.”

Kakashi looks at him again. Typical half-hooded eye, but full of his attention.

“What was it?”

Iruka thinks of how to word this. He runs his lip through his teeth again, and exhales.

“Was there an incident when…that is…did you have friends that…”

Kakashi doesn’t stiffen or pull back, but he gets a far-away look in his eyes.

“Obito and Rin.”

Iruka exhales shakily. He was almost hoping it wasn’t true.

“So something did happen.”

Kakashi crawls further up his body, and then rolls, pulling Iruka on top of him. Iruka scowls at the lack of a warning, but snuggles into his side anyways. He lets Kakashi decide whether he wants to explain more or not.

After a stretch of silence, Kakashi says, “I got my license early.”

Iruka’s stomach plummets.

“I was young and stupid, and thought I had something to prove,” Kakashi continues. “I piled my friends in the car and took them up to the cliffs where the cops don’t run speed traps.” He pauses for a dangerously long time. Then he brings a hand up to his scar and nods, “Hence.”

Iruka’s heart aches for him, his own memories making it hard to push the grief away. He can’t see Kakashi’s face like this, but a heavy hand squeezes up and down his side.

“Accidents happen, Kakashi.”

“I know,” Kakashi says distantly. “But I kept asking myself why I got to live, and they didn’t. I’m okay now, but I was angry for a long time.”

Iruka rolls to straddle him, hands seeking his face, and Kakashi closes his eyes at the touch. 

“I don’t know why this world is so cruel,” Iruka mumbles. “It throws you terrible heartbreak, and then shows you something wonderfully beautiful. It’s like a constant tug of war.”

“A rollercoaster,” Kakashi says, and leaves it like that. Iruka pets across the scar on his eyelid, and Kakashi’s eyelashes flutter a little.

“It was also a car accident,” Iruka says. Kakashi’s eyes open, and Iruka explains, “My parents.”

It’s likely that Kakashi already knew, if he read his so called _file,_ but Iruka wanted to say it anyways. Kakashi doesn’t give him pity, but there’s a sore kind of understanding in his gaze that Iruka can relate to. They kiss, and he’s not sure which one of them started it first. However, it’s definitely Kakashi that deepens it, and Iruka only returns the favor.

He nuzzles where Iruka is ticklish, and skims his fingers over his bare ribs.

“I don’t want to be sad anymore,” Kakashi says. “Not with you.”

Iruka smiles, and kisses his cheek, then his temple. His skin is warm and soft and alive.

“Sad things happen.”

“Yeah. But you make me happy,” Kakashi replies, and Iruka feels like he could float off into space. Kakashi noses his ear again and squeezes his butt through his pajama pants, and Iruka giggles as his hair tickles his neck.

“Stop that!”

Kakashi rolls them again, but this time Iruka is anticipating it. He puts up a fight, but Kakashi wins in the end, pinning down his arms and blowing a fat raspberry at his stomach.

“Stop!!” Iruka squeals, and Kakashi snickers to himself before doing it again. Iruka gets a foot in his hip and pushes, but Kakashi pins him down with more of his weight and smiles over him, barely brushing their lips together.

“Nah.”

“I’m going to get Gai to teach me some ninja moves,” Iruka huffs. “And then I’ll kick your butt with my mad karate skills.”

“I am a hundred percent serious when I say I’d pay hard money to see that.”

Their legs brush through their sweatpants. Iruka worms a hand out of Kakashi’s grip so he can wrap it around his bicep and squeeze.

“I could take you,” Iruka flirts, and is ready and waiting when Kakashi tips his head to kiss him again.

Iruka loves kissing. Always has, probably always will (especially from now on). It’s intimate, and it makes his mouth warm, and there’s so many different ways to do it. Fast and slow and messy, it feels like they’re testing them all out together, just to see which one’s best.

Iruka flicks his tongue against the tip of Kakashi’s teeth, and is pleased to hear a shuddery exhale. The kiss breaks sticky. 

“Can I…” Kakashi starts, and then abandons.

“What is it?”

Kakashi licks his nose, and Iruka wrinkles it.

“Is it okay if I take my time with you?”

The sun glares the TV from across the room. The dogs are asleep downstairs, and Kakashi’s body is a toned, heavy weight on top of him.

Iruka licks Kakashi’s nose in return.

“I’d like that.”

~

Wrists pinned to the headboard, Iruka can only watch as Kakashi peels the boxers off him like a present.

Iruka agreed to this, so he flexes his wrists against the leather cuffs and doesn’t complain. The thought doesn’t even cross his mind – especially with someone as seductive and all-around sexy as Kakashi hovering over him.

“No tan lines...you’re just plucked out of a magazine, aren’t you.” 

“No more than you.”

Iruka’s skin still smells like the soap they shared this morning. Kakashi grabs his feet and kneads his thumbs into the ankle-bones, making the muscles in Iruka’s thighs twitch reflexively.

“Remember when I said I wanted to lick every inch of you?”

“You’re not serious…” Iruka says, almost a laugh.

“Are you testing my resolve?” Kakashi kneads his thumb into the heel of Iruka’s right foot, and Iruka jerks from the tenderness. “I have lots of patience, sensei.”

“Don’t call me that when we’re doing this,” Iruka chides, and then yips as Kakashi kisses his sole. “Kakashi!”

“What? I have to start somewhere,” he grins, wolfish.

Teeth scrape his ankle bone, and Iruka twitches again. The sensation is strange, but Kakashi’s mouth is wicked, and Iruka starts to get hard when he pushes his leg up and nips into the calf muscle.

“That’s biting, not licking,” Iruka reminds.

“Ugh, it’s like you know your bitchiness turns me on,” Kakashi sighs happily, and then licks a long, dirty stripe up behind his knee. Iruka stammers and squirms, and the metal buckle on the cuff hits the headboard with a loud _clang!_

“I’m not a – ah –” Iruka flexes his toes as Kakashi’s tongue moves hotly up his inner thigh. “Hhhn, _Kakashi.”_

“Goddamn, these legs,” Kakashi exhales. He sits up enough to run his hands along the same path as his mouth, starting at his inner knees and moving up to his hip-flexors. “I can’t count how many times I jerked off thinking about you in that stupid kimono.”

Iruka chokes, “Are you serious?”

“It haunted me. _Haunted me,_ Iruka. My dick almost fell off.”

“I can put the kimono back on for you,” Iruka offers, and then laughs when Kakashi moans loud and shameless into his hip. “Stop that.”

“I can’t, you’re sexy,” Kakashi says like it’s math. He licks around Iruka’s hipbone, swirls his tongue up his soft side and pecks over his ribs. One, two, three. Iruka’s face is entirely red by now, and he swallows hard as Kakashi’s mouth relentlessly lavishes whatever he can reach, his slick tongue swirling a nipple. 

Iruka gasps when Kakashi noses into his armpit, and he tries to kick him away.

“Kakashi!”

“What?? You smell good.”

“You’re so weird!” Iruka giggles heatedly, mostly from being tickled. Kakashi nips his bicep, then his shoulder, and Iruka does groan when he meets his neck, and covers an old hickey with his teeth.

He’s incredibly hard now, but Kakashi is careful to keep his hips away, and it’s torture. Kakashi licks up his adams apple, kisses him once, and then around his jaw and behind his ear. Iruka’s breath is shallow, and his cock twitches off his hip at the hungry look Kakashi gives him.

“Good job, baby,” Kakashi praises, kissing his chin. “Just keep still for me.”

Kakashi kneels back between his legs, and Iruka’s toes curl as he _finally_ presses his mouth to the head of his cock and sucks.

Iruka moans breathily, and switches between staring at the ceiling and being brave enough to watch Kakashi go down on him. He’s fucking good at it, and Iruka’s whole body twitches as he swirls his tongue and bobs his head and builds a serious rhythm.

He loves the hands at his thighs. Iruka should feel pinned, should feel chained and locked up and claustrophobic – but it’s so _sweet_ and loving, and Iruka knows he’s never been safer.

“Fuck,” Iruka gasps, and wiggles his hips as Kakashi works at him. Kakashi’s hands wriggle between the sheets so he can squeeze his butt, and Iruka can’t even be mad about it, it feels so good.

“You sound like porn, babydoll.” 

“That’s your fault,” Iruka snaps, and flushes as Kakashi spits on his cock and sucks him down again. 

Kakashi has set an impossible pace. It’s like he’s trying to fry his brain. Iruka sobs wetly and arches up off the bed, legs everywhere as Kakashi moves up down and back again.

“I’m – “ Iruka seizes. “It’s – _Kakashi,_ it’s too much!”

It builds in his stomach, a wonderful heat that spreads to his toes; and just as Iruka arches again, orgasm impending...Kakashi pulls away.

_No!_

Kakashi’s deadpan sounds like sin. “Too much you say?”

Iruka _groans._ It’s ripped away from him, and his body sags in the sheets as he blinks away the confusion. 

“Wh-what…”

“I _said,_ ” Kakashi repeats, a single pointer finger swirling around his slit, making him twitch. “I wanted to take my time with you.”

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Iruka voices. Kakashi hums contently, and begins to suck him off again, this time much, much slower. Iruka curls his toes and groans in frustration, because he’s _there,_ but Kakashi leaves him hanging, pulling back just when his body begins to tense up again and again.

“That’s it…” Kakashi coos, using just one finger to rub beneath the head. “So sensitive, darling. I am so in love with you.”

Iruka can’t even form words anymore. He’s dizzy from being edged so many times, and it feels like if you looked at him wrong, he’d shatter. He vibrates from the intensity of it, and the cuffs clang on the headboard when Kakashi barely presses a kiss to his cock, and it’s enough to feel like he just got punched in the gut.

_“Kakashi!”_

“So tight,” Kakashi comments, those damn fingers teasing his balls. “You’re close aren’t you? Let me play just a little longer, baby, please.”

Iruka hisses through his teeth, but nods. The attention is addictive, and Iruka cries out _just_ from Kakashi pressing a kiss to his hip. It’s infuriating, it’s frustrating, but its _incredible._ Like every nerve is on end, just waiting for Kakashi to give him permission.

He has no idea how long it goes on for, but Iruka is losing his mind. 

“Please,” Iruka croaks, and Kakashi kisses his hip again.

“Okay, baby. Just from this, okay? You can do it.”

Kakashi rolls his thumb along his cock and it shouldn’t be enough, it’s _not_ enough, but it builds so much and so suddenly that Iruka can feel the exact moment it hits.

His throat goes raw and his body tenses so hard, he feels the blood rush past his ears. Kakashi sighs happily into his thigh, and jerks him off for real, and Iruka shakes from it like he’s been electrocuted. He comes so hard his _balls_ hurt, and he’s not sure how long he stares at the ceiling and questions his entire existence, before Kakashi starts wiping him down with a rag.

“Well that was awesome,” Kakashi chirps.

Iruka rubs his sore wrists, eyes the massive erection between Kakashi’s legs and says, “Fuck me.” 

Kakashi pauses, mid-stretch.

“What?”

They’ve never gone this far. But Iruka’s entire body is like jello, and he can’t seem to catch his breath, and he suddenly wants – _needs_ to have Kakashi in him. 

“You just made me come so hard I astral projected,” Iruka argues. “You better fuck me.”

“Are you okay?” Kakashi frowns. “We can wait.”

“Kakashi,” Iruka hisses, in his best _I Am Going to Count to Three_ voice, and Kakashi doesn’t hesitate any further.

He’s not quite sure what happens. Iruka is on too many endorphins to sense his surroundings. All he knows is he’s relaxed and loose as hell when Kakashi stretches him, and when Kakashi does fuck him for real, the slide is easy and painless. Kakashi is _huge,_ and they fit like they were made for each other. The sight of Kakashi kneeled over him, guiding his cock between his thighs -- _that_ is a picture.

“Holy hell,” Kakashi hisses. “You’re just so – _nhh,_ you feel amazing, baby. Thank you, thank you for this.”

“I love you,” Iruka reminds him, pushing back his sweaty bangs, and Kakashi sags into him.

It’s so, so much better this way. Iruka’s head is clear, and he can focus entirely on Kakashi’s finely tuned body as he holds Iruka by the hips and fucks him silly. Iruka’s hard again before long, pulling Kakashi closer to suck on his mouth and swallow all the quiet noises he makes.

Kakashi’s arms brace in the sheets, and Iruka just floats off and away, mumbling happy praises and committing Kakashi’s slack-jawed face to memory. Kakashi gives it to him good, and Iruka’s begging for it, clawing up his back and losing himself completely. He’s going to be sore tomorrow, and it will be awesome.

The heavy keen in his neck is perfect. Iruka loves the stutter of his rhythm, the rough and sudden drag of his hips as Kakashi tries to get closer while he orgasms – and Iruka doesn’t know he’s coming again until he is, happy to just hold Kakashi’s face against his chest and revel in the afterglow before their sweat starts to dry.

Time stops, at least for a little bit. Just for them.

~

Iruka walks in on Kakashi dressed only from the waist up, attempting to balance his laptop on one of the decorative couch pillows, and all he does is blink.

“What happened to your office?” 

“This is more comfortable.” 

“They’re going to know it’s the couch,” Iruka says. 

“You think?”

“Here, swap the blue cushion out for a white one.” Iruka pulls on the pillow until Kakashi moves. “There. Now it might look like a white wall.”

“This is why you’re perfect,” Kakashi says, and then turns his webcam. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.”

Iruka rolls his eyes, and proceeds to tiptoe back to the kitchen. Pakkun looks up at him, Iruka makes a shushing motion, and Pakkun gives a little doggy sigh, resting his head on his paws.

Iruka watches from the kitchen as Kakashi rattles off numbers to his employees. For all that Kakashi is, at his core he’s a hard worker. That’s probably why Iruka is so attracted to him (among a laundry list of things). 

However, seeing him at his laptop is a reminder of all the work Iruka has abandoned this weekend. It’s Sunday morning. He really _should_ go home, or at least, grab his lesson plans.

They have a lot to talk about. But Iruka is content taking it one step at a time. Iruka doesn’t necessarily _want_ to keep going to all these events, but if he was allowed to attend as Kakashi’s _real_ lover…

Maybe he’d reconsider.

Kakashi is the pinnacle of stony professionalism, nothing but a CEO giving his staff the rundown; but his doggy pajama pants still make Iruka smile into his coffee.

It’s probably time to call Naruto. Err... tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow’s good.

~

“Thanks again for driving me,” Iruka bows his head. “I’ll be right back with my bag.”

“Sure,” Kakashi yawns. He’s back in his comfy tracksuit, and his hair is already a mess again. “I’ll just wait here.”

Iruka nods, and scurries up to the second floor of his apartment building. He digs his key out of his pocket, flips the lock, and freezes.

Naruto looks back at him. There’s an embroidered jacket in his hand.

“Oh,” Naruto says, tossing the jacket. “Decided to come back, huh?”

The world stops spinning. Naruto is in his apartment. Naruto is _home._ Iruka’s body fights between elation and anger.

“Naruto?! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in school!”

“I came home,” Naruto says, and his tone is cold. Iruka fumes.

“And you decided this all on your own, huh?”

“You lied to me,” Naruto snaps, rising to his feet, and Iruka’s heart stops. He keeps his tone indifferent.

“What are you talking about?”

“ _You!_ ” Naruto points, “ _Fucking lied to me!_ You didn’t get the promotion, did you?”

Everything just kind of, breaks. Naruto looks like he just tore out his heart and stomped all over it.

Iruka swallows, “Naruto, language. Let me just explain…”

“I called you three days ago. Some rando picked up and said you lost your phone,” Naruto says, eyes ablaze. “A guy named Diedara.” Iruka panics. Naruto continues, “You wanna’ know what he told me? He said to check my tuition statements. Why is the CEO of Hateco paying my tuition, Iruka?”

“I know you’re upset, but I don’t appreciate your tone right now,” Iruka says, feeling chastened. “And its – what I get up to in my personal time is none of your business.”

Another lie.

“Did you get a sugar daddy, Iruka?” Naruto’s voice cracks. “Did you do that because – because of me?”

Iruka sighs, and hugs his arms to himself. Naruto looks legitimately _hurt,_ and Iruka feels like the world’s biggest piece of shit for it. He’s missed Naruto so much, and now he can’t even hug him, can’t even be happy at the thought of his boy coming home, because _he fucked up._

_Liar._

“It wasn’t _just_ because of you. It was – we had an agreement. A contract.”

“You _promised!”_ Naruto shouts. “You said! No more jobs where they touch you!!”

Iruka flinches and touches his own scar. Naruto’s face flickers with regret, but it’s replaced with anger again.

“I know. It didn’t start out like that, I promise. We had a contract but – it’s different now, Naruto. I – ” Iruka swallows. “I love him.”

“Are you serious?! _He doesn’t love you!_ He’s another rich dude using you for sex!” 

“Now you just hold on a second –”

“I won’t let you do this to yourself again! I mean – shit, look at your face!”

“That’s – it’s entirely unrelated!”

“Tell me where he is!”

“Naruto,” Kakashi greets, stepping behind Iruka into the apartment. “This is a surprise. I’m sorry we have to meet like this.”

It’s like the eye of a storm.

Both Iruka and Naruto freeze. Kakashi shuts the door behind him, and waves.

And then Iruka garbles a warning, because Naruto _flies_ across the room.

 _“You! –_ ”

Kakashi catches his fist easy. He grabs Naruto’s arm in a hold and pulls it behind his back, and Iruka’s heart lurches.

“Don’t hurt him!”

“Let me go!” Naruto screeches and thrashes.

Kakashi’s face is blank, his tone is cool, but his grip on Naruto doesn’t leave any room for a fight.

“Let’s just all take a second to calm down. I’m not going to hurt you, or Iruka.”

“How dare you touch him,” Naruto hisses, and twists to spit in Kakashi’s direction. Kakashi dodges, and Iruka feels completely helpless.

“I understand that you’re angry, kid. Relax and I’ll tell you everything.”

“I’ll show _you_ relaxed!”

“Naruto,” Iruka begs.

“Your birth father was very dear to me,” Kakashi begins, and like magic, Naruto freezes.

He goes deadly still. Then he whips around in Kakashi’s grip. Kakashi lets go, and Iruka is sure he looks just as bewildered as Naruto.

 _“What?”_ They say together.

“Minato Namikaze of the 38th precinct. Your mother was a detective.”

“You knew my dad?” Naruto gapes.

“Your father was a captain,” Kakashi says, lowering his hands into his pockets now that Naruto is no longer out for blood. “But he also taught martial arts classes after school hours. Were you old enough to remember this?”

Dread starts to creep up Iruka’s spine. He stares numbly as Naruto drifts to place himself between Iruka and Kakashi.

“Yes,” Naruto breathes. He looks between them and frowns. “Someone needs to explain what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry Iruka, but it’s my turn to be honest,” Kakashi nods. His eyes go hazy, the same way he does when remembering a lost one, and Iruka’s entire body hurts from tensing so hard. “Minato-sensei was the one who taught me how to work out all the pain and frustration I felt after my family and friends passed away.”

Naruto’s stance softens. Iruka feels his own heart squeeze.

“When I heard about the shooting…I couldn’t cope with more loss,” Kakashi explains, looking away. His tone is removed and cold and Iruka hates it. “I know it had to be infinitely more painful for you. But I just couldn’t handle it. I know that out of everyone _I_ was the one who had the means to make life better for you but – I was inconsiderate, and selfish, and wallowing in my own self-pity.”

“So you…” Iruka swallows, his mind jumping to obvious conclusions. “You already knew who I was, when we met at the grocery store.”

“Yes. The last I had heard, _Umino Iruka_ had taken in Minato-sensei’s son, so I figured the kid would be fine. But I saw you struggling on the phone that day and I realized I’d screwed up.”

Naruto flinches, and Iruka steps up, heart in his mouth, fury nipping at his heels.

“Is that what this was? An amendment for your sins?!”

“At first,” Kakashi shrugs. “It was two birds with one stone. I got to piss off my investors, and I got to make things right by taking care of your family. I knew you’d never take a handout, but if I spun it right, I could get you to agree to a contract.” He stops just long enough for Iruka to feel like he’s dying, before Kakashi continues in a softer tone. “But then…you were so… _you._ Clever and funny and beautiful. You swept me away, and I didn’t look back.”

Finally, after too long, Iruka feels his heart begin to beat again. He sags up against the wall, and turns away to breathe. 

“We didn’t need your stupid money, yanno,” Naruto snaps.

“I know that,” Kakashi says.

Naruto then droops, tipping his head, “So you weren’t just using him?”

“Not for what you think,” Kakashi explains. “But as Iruka said, it’s not like that anymore.” He then shocks them both by bowing at the waist and saying, “Naruto, when I tell you I love him, I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

Talk about an emotional roller coaster. Iruka’s chest swells so hard, it makes him dizzy.

“Woah dude, s-stand up!” Naruto waves his hands around. “You’re supposed to be a bigshot, yanno!”

“I can’t believe you already knew me,” Iruka whispers, still in shock.

Kakashi approaches slowly, and looks relieved when Naruto doesn’t go for the throat again.

“I had only seen you once at the funeral. You changed so much in twelve years, I wouldn’t have recognized you without the name badge.”

Iruka breathes a laugh out of his nose, and rubs his eyes. “They never told me who paid for the funeral.”

“I should’ve done more,” Kakashi says.

“Yeah, you could have,” Iruka nods. Kakashi winces, and Iruka ignores him. “But it’s not about the money, let’s all _forget_ about the money for a goddamn minute.” He huffs, dragging Kakashi’s hand out of his pocket and taking his fingers.

Kakashi looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“If my dad was that close to you, then you’re our family too,” Naruto barks, collapsing back on the couch. “Coulda’ come to a barbecue or two, you dick.”

For the first time since it all began, he sees Kakashi’s eyes shine over. There are no tears, and the glossiness is blinked away in a moment, but it was still there.

“Ah,” Kakashi says, accepting the hug from Iruka. “I see.”

“So you got yourself a loaded boyfriend.” Naruto picks his teeth with his pinky nail. “That’s not so bad I guess. Now I’m kinda’ disappointed, I came all this way to kill someone.”

Iruka speaks without lifting his face from Kakashi’s chest.

“Naruto, if your shoes are on that couch then _you_ will be the one killed today.”

Feet hit the floor alarmingly fast, and Kakashi lets out a surprised laugh, arms wrapping back around Iruka’s shoulders and hugging him tight.

“So was my dad like, super cool at ninja stuff?”

“He was like a blonde batman.”

~

Iruka hasn’t been in this room in months. He sits on the edge of Naruto’s bed, and twists his hairband nervously around his fingers. He tells Naruto everything.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Iruka says.

Naruto looks up. His expression is irritated at first, but then it melts away.

“It’s okay. I’m like, not happy about it but, I know you were trying to take care of us.” Naruto pauses, and then says softer, “You know I was never unhappy, right? Like, sure, it sucked about my parents and stuff but — I’ve had it good. You know that, right?” 

Iruka forces back the tears with every muscle in his body. He nods, eyes dry. 

“That means a lot. I’m sorry it hasn’t always been perfect.”   
  
Typical teenager, Naruto only shrugs. 

“I know you always worked hard, and I know stuff’ll be different ‘cause of this new guy, but I think you deserve it, or whatever.” Naruto then glares, “Wait. That bruise isn’t from him, right?”

“Oh, no no. I uh… got in a fight with someone at a gala.”

Naruto’s eyes balk, and then he laughs.

“Are you serious?! Did you punch their teeth in?”

Iruka flushes, “…Maybe. This doesn’t mean you can still fight at school!”

“That is so sick,” Naruto laughs. “I mean, if I ever saw anyone put their hands on you I’d kill them, but I know you can take care of yourself, so that’s cool.”

Iruka affectionately digs his knuckles into Naruto’s head and scowls, “That’s my line! Stop acting all mature!”

“I’m being serious!”

Naruto bats his hands away, and Iruka pulls him into a hug for real. Naruto tenses, and then hugs him back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I won’t hide anything like that from you again.”

“Yeah yeah. Just spare me the details.”

~

Iruka steps back into his bedroom feeling emotionally drained for the day. Kakashi is in the middle of thumbing through his closet, before he turns at the click of the door.

“So?”

“He’s not mad at me,” Iruka sighs, shoulders sagging. Kakashi slides his closet door back shut, and Iruka flops face forward on the bed. “How much did you hear earlier?”

The bed dips, and Kakashi begins to rub slow circles up and down his back. Iruka melts like friggin’ butter.

“Enough. You don’t have to tell me.”

Iruka exhales and turns his head towards Kakashi. He brings his fingers up to trace his scar again. He finds himself wanting Kakashi to know. He wants to be open about everything. 

“It was an incident at my college job. It wasn’t like – a _big_ deal. This guy would come around only asking for lapdances from me and, well. Sometimes I don’t know how to keep my stupid heart out of things.”

What idiot falls in love with a patron? A frequently _drunk_ one at that? Then again, he was young and dumb and gay, and he wasn’t exactly the most popular guy around.

Kakashi’s expression is _very_ walled off, like he’s trying to repress something. He rolls his knuckles into Iruka’s spine.

“I see. Naruto’s reaction makes increasingly more sense.”

“He was very upset when it happened. It was only a broken beer bottle, but it cut pretty deep.”

“This guy’s in jail, right?”

“He got off on bail.” Kakashi’s stare hardens, and Iruka’ pats his thigh. “Don’t worry, I’m over it.”

Fingers sweep his hair away from his neck, feather light and almost enough to tickle.

“I don’t think your heart is stupid,” Kakashi says. Iruka closes his eyes and hums. “I’m glad you were able to move on.”

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.” Iruka looks upwards. “I wish I had known about your relation to Minato and Kushina.”

“I know,” Kakashi says, and leaves it at that.

Iruka closes his eyes again. Everything hurts, but in a good, numb kind of way. Like pressing your thumb in a bruise to remember it’s still there, still hurting, but still healing.

Kakashi’s hands are grounding. As a couple, they’re more tactile than any relationship Iruka has experienced before; but also, Iruka has never _related_ to someone so heavily before either. Kakashi comes from an entirely different world, but Iruka can feel, at least a little bit, what Kakashi has been through.

“They weren’t my foster parents,” Iruka says. “But they helped me get emancipated. They gave me a home, took me out of the system. Minato never talked about his self-defense classes.”

“He talked about you,” Kakashi says, and Iruka’s throat goes tight when knuckles brush over the bruise on his cheek. “And he talked about Naruto.”

Iruka catches his fingers, and rolls to press them against his mouth for a kiss. Kakashi’s face is still blank, but Iruka knows the softness in his eyes. He’s seen it too often to mistake it for anything else.

They’ll be okay.

~

The sink splashes water over the edge, and Iruka scowls, wiping his chin with the back of his arm.

“You shouldn’t have sent him back on a private jet,” Iruka scolds, once again trying to save a poor, tortured Tupperware from its chili demise. “He’s going to get spoiled.”

Kakashi sets aside his dish on the drying rack and steps behind him, lips pressing to the thin silver chain that Kakashi gifted him with this morning. His tone is light and airy. 

“A little spoiling isn’t so bad, is it sensei?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Besides, we couldn’t have Naruto missing his class, hm?”

“Whatever,” Iruka sighs, and sets the tup back in the sink. “I’m just happy he didn’t try to snap your neck again.”

“I’m glad he worries about you,” Kakashi admits, hands expertly curling under his shirt. “You two protect each other.”

Iruka twists in his arms and squeezes his shoulders seriously.

“We’ll protect you too.”

Kakashi’s eyes widen, because by all means, it doesn’t make sense. Dangerously skilled in hand-hand combat, a personal security that follows his every move, the financial ability to _end_ any rival he deems fit; but Iruka means what he says, and Kakashi knows that.

“Aww, my hero,” Kakashi coos, and pecks his mouth. “Are you going to sweep me off my feet like Yuki-san?”

Iruka sighs, “You and your dirty books.”

He then gets his hands on Kakashi’s ass and lifts, and Kakashi laughs openly into his shoulder. 

They get lost on their way to the bedroom. Kakashi whispers _you should fuck me_ against his ear, and that's about it for Iruka's common sense. Kakashi bends himself over the couch, and Iruka is mildly horrified to find out about the lube stash under the couch cushions. 

"You've been waiting for this," Iruka says, hands at his back. 

"Innocent until proven guilty," Kakashi replies, and curls like a cat. 

~

Anko, Izumo, and Kotetsu keep looking between each other like they’re waiting for the cameras to pop out of nowhere.

For once, this is a party Iruka can relax at. It’s lowkey, full of good food, and the company is nothing but friends. Iruka figured it was high time he told the truth – the _whole_ truth, so he could finally live his life in full.

At least, it sounded like a good idea.

Kotetsu clutches his imaginary pearls, and Iruka rolls his eyes.

“ _That_ is mystery man?!” Anko whisper shouts, pointing non-discreetly at Kakashi. _“Him?!”_

“Anko, knock it off.”

“Oh my god he IS hot.”

Kakashi turns around as if summoned, spots their little company, and waves cutely. Iruka pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

“That’s not just hot,” Izumo whistles. “That’s like. Sexy meets a million dollars.”

“Add a couple zeros to that, more like.”

“And some _inches._ Is he packin’?”

“You guys are so embarrassing.”

Kakashi leaves his friendly conversation with Tenzo to wander over, and Iruka isn’t sure how to convey _run_ via blinking-Morse code, but he has a feeling Kakashi wouldn’t listen anyways.

“Hello, my love,” Kakashi greets, sliding an arm around his back. “Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

All three of his friends comically swoon, and Iruka squints at Kakashi, mad that he’s encouraging this.

“This is Anko, Izumo and Kotetsu. We all went to school together for education.”

“Ahhh, I’ve heard about you three,” Kakashi greets, shaking their hands.

“I wish I’d heard about _you,_ ” Kotetsu blurts. Izumo elbows him, and Kakashi laughs politely.

“Sorry, it was a bit under wraps for a while. Complicated stuff.”

“Yes you are,” Anko says, looking him up and down like that makes any sense, and Iruka smacks his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Holy shit, is that a pool table?”

“Yes it is,” Iruka shoos. “Please go use it and be not here.”

Their attention is taken away by the free alcohol, and Kakashi’s shoulders are shaking with barely restrained laughter.

“This is fun,” Kakashi says. “We should throw more of these.”

Iruka cringes as some of his and Kakashi’s colleagues begin to mingle.

“I’m regretting everything. This was a terrible idea.”

“Hey, a little socializing is good, isn’t it?”

“Darling, you socialize for a living.”

Kakashi cracks a smile, and squeezes Iruka by the back of the neck.

“Your friend is crawling on top of the pool table.”

“Oh god help me.”

~

Iruka is confident enough in his masculinity to admit that he doesn’t mind some of the more feminine outfits Kakashi has bought him.

He’s been keeping the expensive clothes at Kakashi’s condo, even though he refuses to permanently move in with him quite yet.

Not that Iruka was complaining before, but he really likes his life right now. He likes returning to his shitty apartment knowing that Kakashi will sometimes follow him there, just to get away from it all. He likes sleeping next to him, likes going to work and coming back home to grade papers and cradle Kakashi’s head while he internally sorts through the day’s stresses.

He _loves_ Kakashi’s bed, however. It’s big and soft and the open balcony makes him feel like he’s rolling in the clouds.

So on a lazy Saturday morning, Iruka lounges diagonally across the bed, reading one of the books off of Kakashi’s shelf and rubbing his socked feet together.

There was something about the outfit that caught his eye. He saw the ad online, and with reluctant curiosity, he had found his size.

It’s white and pink, more frilly and babydoll-ish than the lingerie Kakashi had bought him months ago, but Iruka isn’t concerned if Kakashi likes it, because _he_ is the one that thinks it’s cute.

The top is sheer and straps around his neck like a halter, ending just at the top of his ribs, and the shorts have frills and lace and an attachable garter belt that took way too long to clip onto the socks. Oh well.

Iruka turns a page and rolls to his stomach, moving into the open sun to see the pages better. It’s not Icha Icha, thanks. Iruka found _The Count of Monte Cristo_ tucked back in the shelf, and it felt too ironic not to pick up.

The dogs start barking at the door, and Iruka smiles as he hears Kakashi greet them all by name. Then there’s an echo from downstairs;

_“Iruka baby, I’m back!”_

“Welcome home,” Iruka calls, not bothering to move. He can hear the shuffling of some plastic bags, and footsteps coming up the stairs, and Iruka finishes another page before Kakashi enters the room.

“So I picked up burgers on the way home because I know you didn’t feel like cooking and – well, technically _Tenzo_ picked up the burgers but, I wasn’t sure if you wanted fries or onion ri --”

Kakashi stops abruptly, and Iruka slides his bookmark in place before setting the book on the side table.

He rolls to his back and lifts an eyebrow.

“Well you got me onion rings, right?”

Kakashi’s phone drops out of his hand and flops along the floor. They stare at each other for a long time, before Kakashi croaks.

“Did you buy this?”

“Well not with my money,” Iruka says flippantly, testing Kakashi’s reaction. His pupils dilate, and Iruka doesn’t have much time before Kakashi is pouncing on the bed. Iruka stops him with a foot at the chest and shouts _“Hey!”_ And Kakashi straightens back up, needy and frustred. 

_“Irukaaa,”_ Kakashi whines, trying to move past him, but Iruka firmly plants his foot in Kakashi’s sternum and glares.

“You can’t touch me yet,” Iruka says, once again feeling for Kakashi’s reaction. He pouts childishly, but sits back on his knees and frowns. It feels a lot like setting meat at a tiger’s nose and telling him to wait. 

Kakashi’s eyes scan him instead, a hand coming up to wrap around his ankle.

“You look… _unreal,_ love. Like some serious fantasy shit. Is this for me?”

“No touching,” Iruka reminds him, shaking off his hand and running his socked foot down the front of Kakashi’s t-shirt. “And maybe I bought it for me, how about that.”

Kakashi makes a noise in his throat, and those _eyes –_ the intensity is almost enough for Iruka to lose his resolve. Kakashi's abdominal muscles clench as Iruka presses his toes into his stomach, and drag down to the crotch of his jeans.

“Oh god,” Kakashi grits under his breath, and Iruka watches him tremble a little as Iruka grinds his foot into a _very_ hard erection, wow. That’s kind of hot. Kakashi’s thighs tense, and his head rolls on his shoulders. “Let me feel you baby, come on.”

“Hmm…” Iruka stretches, grinding his toes further into his crotch again. He loves the physical twitch he receives. “No. Lay on your back, arms above your head.”

Kakashi gives him a challenging look; eyes narrowed, grey eyes stormy and hot. Iruka levels his glare, and Kakashi’s fingers twitch in a desire to touch him again.

“Iruka.”

“On your back,” Iruka snaps. “Or I’m burning this outfit for good.”

Kakashi rolls. Iruka grins down at him.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“What are you gonna’ do, spank me?” Iruka teases, and then laughs at the blown out expression Kakashi gives him. “You are so easy.”

Kakashi glares as he grips the bars of the headboard.

“Now what.”

“Now, whatever I want,” Iruka says, straddling his lap. He grinds down through their clothes, and Kakashi’s fingers tighten on the bars.

It’s kinda’ fun. Iruka doesn’t really think of himself as that sexy, but peeling down the shorts and grinding his dick against Kakashi’s bare stomach is definitely one of the better improvisations he’s had. Kakashi doesn’t touch him like he’s supposed to, and Iruka tells him he’s _a good, good daddy,_ and Kakashi’s hips fly off the bed like a rocket.

"You are so beautiful," Kakashi says, and while his tone may be flat to anyone else, Iruka can hear the strain. The _sincerity._

"You mean that," Iruka breathes, rocking forward. 

Kakashi squeezes the headboard and looks _into him,_ a predatory stare that sets his hair on end. 

"Of course I mean it." 

Kakashi is so _fit._ Iruka takes to just tasting him, running his tongue between his pecs, along his neck and the seam of his lips. Kakashi makes a punched noise, and Iruka decides he’s tortured him enough.

“Alright,” Iruka sighs contently against his mouth. “Touch me.”

In all truth, they are lucky Kakashi doesn’t rip anything. He’s thrown so roughly into the sheets, gripped and bitten and fucked so hard, there’s ringing in his ears for the rest of the night. Iruka likes it that way; likes that Kakashi knows he can take it, knows he’s strong enough to support his weight and not crumble under the intensity. Kakashi is _thick,_ and it fills him up to his stomach, and Iruka is like a well-fed cat when it’s over and done with.

Later, when it’s out of their system, Iruka rides him _slow,_ and Kakashi breathes in big, heavy breaths against his neck and holds him so tenderly, you’d think Iruka might break. Their kisses are tortuously long, like they’re making every second count. 

Kakashi runs his hands up and down his leg-muscles through the socks, and says;

“I want pictures.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” 

~

To be fair, Iruka forgot it was Tuesday.

 _“Rivallll!”_ Gai shouts, throwing open the front door. “I have returned with another youthful and hot-blooded challenge!”

Iruka pauses from where he’s currently mixing the contents of an omelet, and then stifles a laugh at Kakashi’s exasperated expression.

“He has the key code?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Come on in, Gai!” Iruka calls, smiling. “Would you like an omelet?”

“Good morning Iruka-sensei! It smells delicious in here,” Gai beams. “Thank you for your kind hospitality, but unfortunately I have already eaten breakfast this morning. Are you prepared, rival?”

Kakashi sleepily looks up through his arms, and gives a bored look at Gai’s boundless energy.

“Can I eat first?”

“It’s okay honey, go spar and I’ll bring it up to you when it’s done,” Iruka says. Kakashi gives him a look that says _why would you betray me like this,_ and Iruka smiles innocently. That’s what he gets for showing up to his school unannounced while reading one of those smutty books. He’s going to pay for that for a _long_ time.

Gai drags Kakashi up to the gym, and Iruka slips a piece of bacon to Bisuke when he starts to whine and beg.

Summer vacation is in three weeks, which means soon, Iruka will be able to travel with Kakashi on some of his business trips. He hasn’t gotten the opportunity to leave town much in his life, so he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little excited.

Iruka made _sure_ that they would be home during the week Naruto will be visiting, and they’re even bringing him along to a convention in Hawaii. Naruto is beside himself about it.

Tis the season for business trips, so Kakashi has been gone for days at a time. Kakashi never asks Iruka to set aside his career and come with him, and Iruka appreciates that about him.

There’s a loud shout from upstairs, and the sound of a body hitting hardwood. Iruka slides an omelet onto the plate and calls,

“If there’s another hole in the wall when I get up there, I won’t be very happy about it!”

_“Yes Iruka-Sensei!”_

~

Kakashi will never live in that childhood mansion ever again, but after a long stretch of gentle budging, he does open it up to the public as a museum. Cases are built for the old art pieces, and Iruka organizes a class field trip for the opening day.

Kakashi doesn’t like walking through the living room any more than he did before, but he does seem more at peace on the property. Iruka pulls him into one of the closed-off rooms and kisses him, and they both laugh when they hear Tenzo yelling to his little first graders;

_“No no no! Don’t touch that!”_

~

“Are you sure you want this with me?”

“More than anything.”

“I have a temper.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“I won’t put up with your BS.”

“Yeah, and it’s great.”

“I don't have status.”

“Baby, come on.”

“I’ll want a real house one day.”

“We can look for it together.”

“What if I want more kids?” 

“I’ll buy you all the kids you want.”

Iruka slaps his arm, and Kakashi laughs through his nose, nuzzling into Iruka’s cheek and kissing him soft.

“Fine, your loss,” Iruka says.

“My gain,” Kakashi grins.

~

Iruka hands his coat to the man at the door, and adjusts the shiny cufflinks on his wrists as he steps past security.

 _The Squeaky Wheel_ is full tonight; influencers, moguls, candies and strippers and skimpy waitresses that try to squeeze through the hall.

Heads turn, but Iruka doesn’t pay them any mind. He smiles to Hisa and Myra at the bar, and his senses are filled with a familiar overload. The smell of cigars. Plush red carpets and chandeliers, pokerchips and drunk laughter. Music pounds through him, all the way to his bones.

Iruka goes to take a seat at the poker table, but he’s stopped by a hand at his shoulder.

“Hey,” Kakuzu frowns. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Iruka lifts an eyebrow, “Sitting?”

The other tycoons at the table look to each other and frown. 

“How did you get in here?”

“Yeah, who do you think you are?”

Iruka accepts a cocktail from a passing waitress and grins, bringing the straw to his mouth. He can feel the critical eyes like little ants under his skin, and Iruka squashes them under his Italian leather boots.

“I’m Hatake Iruka, and I’m here to play in my husband’s place." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha plot twist, there was a plot all along 
> 
> i made a playlist for this fic that you can listen to [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0higiINIxLO5iQKMNgTAVk?si=cfHjdHpzQEOHRhgK3dr8Fg)  
> thanks yall :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Liar In Babel Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962545) by [KikyoShotFirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikyoShotFirst/pseuds/KikyoShotFirst)




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